


Vignettes and Thoughts upon a Life Unplanned but Well Loved or This is Good

by ladygray99



Series: Vignettes [1]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Case Fic, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fights, First Time, Kid Fic, Multi, Older Characters, Pre-Slash, Thanksgiving, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-05
Updated: 2009-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 04:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 33,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What moments mark a friendship, a love, a marriage, a lifetime?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Things Not Seen

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of a 36 chapter story. After the main story there are several extensions that slot in between chapters.

 

  


 

_When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it. ~A.A. Milne_

  
Part 1-Things Not Seen 

  


Charlie stared at the broccoli between his chopsticks. Agent Colby Granger stared at Charlie staring at the broccoli between his chopsticks. Agent David Sinclair stared at them both.

“What are you seeing, Charlie?” Colby finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got this look which I know means you’re seeing something the rest of us aren’t, so what are you seeing?”

Charlie’s eyebrows came together in a thoughtful frown. He held forth the broccoli. “What do you see?”

“I see broccoli dipped in Chen’s killer chili sauce. What do you see?”

“Infinite repetitions of fractal patterns, which, in itself, is nothing new in nature but, the chili sauce made me think that I never really took factually textured materials properly into account while calculating drag and friction during my fluid dynamics research days.”

“Like I said, something the rest of us aren’t seeing.”

Charlie ate the broccoli quickly followed by a large bite of rice to cool the chili burn. “I should perhaps consider the fractal quality of the folds of the brain and the branching of neurons as part of cognitive emergence.”

“You really think you can calculate human consciousness?” David asked.

Charlie shrugged. “It’s either that or play lots of minesweeper.”

  


  


 


	2. Gutters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nasty dead body

If it hadn't been for Biology class Charlie would have sworn he'd just vomited up his own kidneys. He had made it as far as the curb, trying not to contaminate the crime scene. He'd been to crime scenes before but never this…fresh wasn't the word. The corpse had bloated in the L.A. sun. The smell when the M.E. punctured the body was what got him in the end.

Behind him, Don looked over to Charlie but Don was trying to run a chaotic scene.

Agent Granger gave a nod to Don. "I got him."

Charlie felt a bottle of cold water pressed into his hand and he looked up at Colby.

"Bet you haven't hurled in the gutter since college."

Charlie took a sip of water. "I was 14 when I started college. I never hurled in a gutter."

"Well there's a first time for everything."

Charlie rinsed his mouth and tried to will his stomach to settle.

"Here." Colby handed over a tin of mints.

"Mints?"

"Altoids. They kill the smell." Charlie grabbed three.


	3. Fractals

David saw something strange on Colby's computer screen. "What's that man?

"What? Oh it's a fractal pattern generator."

David raised an eyebrow at the other agent.

"I Googled something Charlie was talking about." Colby said. "Found this."

"What's it do?"

"Induces acid flashbacks as far as I can tell. Watch. I type in random numbers down here, press enter, and tada."

David watched as a swirlly multicolored snowflake thing crawled across the screen. "Let me try." David typed his birthday into the section marked field variable. What came out was blue and looked like boxes twisting into infinity. "Cool."

An hour later Charlie walked by the cubical and quickly backtracked when he thought he saw a multicolored variation of Pascal's triangle.

"Hey guys, whatcha doing?"

"Oh hey, Charlie," David said.

"Hey, we're just wasting tax payer money playing with this thing online." Said Colby.

Charlie smiled recognizing the program. "Here's, this is my favorite." Charlie leaned over Colby and typed in a very complicated set of instructions. The screen reloaded slowly and the final shape was in 3D. Colby tilted his head and stared at it.

"Broccoli?"

"Broccoli." Charlie said with a smile.

"You've memorized the mathematical formula for broccoli?"

"I can also hum the entire White Album."


	4. Feeling Stupid

Colby felt stupid. This wasn’t completely unusual and at least David was in it with him, but his brain felt like it was trying to escape out his ears and he realized he’d read the paragraph in front of him six times.

 Don entered the break room to find two of his agents with noses firmly in books with titles like ‘_Beginning Gravitational Theory_.’

 “Dare I ask what going on?” The agents looked up.

 “We’re just…you know…reading.”

 Don read the title of a book, “_Worms__ and Strings: The Macro Nature of a Micro Universe?_”

 “We’re trying not to look like complete idiots in front of your brother,” Colby finally said.

 Don blinked a few times then laughed. He laughed long and hard until tears streamed down his face and his sides ached.

 “It’s not that funny, man,” David protested.

 Don finally calmed down and wiped his eyes. “Guys,” he stuttered out between remaining giggles. “We found out Charlie was smart when he was three. He got into my math book and finished it correctly. 99.98% of the world population looks like an idiot once Charlie opens his mouth and no amount of ‘Number Theory for Dummies’ is going to change that.”

 “We also don’t want to look like idiots in front of Megan.” David said.

 “Ah. Now I get it.” Don said with a nod.

 “Other night, after you left the bar, she tried to explain string theory to us.” Colby said.

 “Now I don’t get that shit while sober.” David complained.

 “She had rubber bands and tooth picks and was building these little models trying to explain it to us.”

 “The thing is she gets it. Not the math but the whole theory thing, she gets.”

 “And you’re feeling like ignorant cavemen grunting over beer.” Don said, understanding the feeling.

 “I haven’t felt this consistently dumb since sensitivity training.” David replied.

 “It’s not fair.” Colby said, with a whine. “She’s dating Fleinhardt. You’re always going to learn more if you sleep with the professor.”

 Don decided not to ask how Colby might know that. “Well you’ll just have to find your own CalSci professor to sleep with then. They’ve got lots of them.” Don pointed to a couple of books. “Charlie disproved that one for his Masters Theses and non-Euclidean geometry will only make you want to hunt down and slaughter your old geometry teacher. Don’t go there.”


	5. Publication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First smooch!

The team was celebrating Charlie's most recent publication. This normally wouldn't happen since Charlie published something at least every six moths, but this time there were extra contributors to the paper --One Agent Megan Reeves and one Agent Colby Granger. The article had taken target selection theories of spree killers and added variables for military training and possible PTS. Don had read the article and, as usual, only recognized every third word, but that did not stop him from ordering everyone down to the local bar for a celebration.

Don raised a glass to his team. "To geekness. Now officially declared contagious by the C.D.C." Megan and Colby tossed wadded up bar napkins at their boss. "Seriously. When FBI agents get written up in anything, there's usually a body count involved and sensationalist headlines, but you two are the first to be published in the 'International Journal of Advanced Number Theory' and for that I have nothing but pride."

Everyone raised their glasses then tossed back their drinks.

Larry gave Megan a kiss. "I'm very proud of you, darling," he said, giving her a squeeze.

Colby looked at David.

"I ain't kissing you," David declared.

To Colby's surprise he felt a pair of lips on his cheek.

"I'm very proud of you, darling," Charlie slurred out drunkenly before slipping off his chair. "Where'd the table go?" he asked in honest confusion. It was several minutes before everyone stopped laughing enough to help him up.


	6. Beauty

Agent Granger knocked on the door marked 'Professor Eppes.' He could hear the scribbling of chalk on the other side of the door. He knocked again then carefully let himself in. Charlie was at a board writing equations at top speed. Every board was covered in small scribbles as if conserving space was important. The chalk dust had settled in the younger Eppes' dark hair, giving it a strange gray shimmer. Colby had been asked by Don to drop off some reports. He was tempted to just leave them but he wasn't sure where. Every surface was covered in notes. Colby thought it was like Charlie's brain had exploded.

"Can I help you, Agent Granger?" Colby spun around to find Larry Fleinhardt.

"Larry. Thank god. Don wanted me to give these to Charlie."

"Are they urgent?"

"No, just some old stuff for some database." He looked over his shoulder to Charlie who hadn't acknowledged them. "Is he ok?"

"He's been at this for three days. I don't think he's slept."

"What is it?"

"Beauty." Larry replied in a slight whisper. Colby gave him a questioning look, "Cognitive emergence." He clarified.

"The whole thing?!"

Larry gave a chuckle. "No. Not even close. But it's an important bit. Like the corner piece of a puzzle."

"Ah. Can I leave these with you?" He waved the files.

"Certainly."

There was a loud snap. Colby turned to see broken chalk hit the floor. Charlie stood still, his breathing heavy, like he had just run a marathon or had a good cry. It was hard to tell which. He turned slowly to find Larry and Colby warily looking at him, unsure of what he might do next.

"Eureka." Charlie whispered, not knowing why his throat felt dry or his eyes burned.

Colby sprinted across the room as he watched the slow buckle of Charlie's knees. It wasn't the best catch but he managed to keep that brilliant brain from cracking against the floor. "If this is the corner piece I hate so see what putting together the sky does to him."

Larry gave a smile that Colby thought looked a little sad.


	7. On the Range

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guns

“This feels really wrong.” Charlie said as Colby guided him down the hall.

 “If it felt right, I’d worry about you.”

 “I’m a civilian.” Charlie protested.

 “You’re a civilian adviser to the FBI and if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, the bad guys are not going to differentiate.” Colby pushed Charlie into the small booth and took out a gun.

 “It’s small.”

 “It’s a .22, anything bigger will probably break your wrists and hit me.”

 “Hey! I’ve got upper body strength.” Charlie objected.

 “Just take the gun.”

 Charlie picked it up like it was live dynamite.

 “Keep it pointed down range or at the floor. Shoot your own foot and you _will_ be mocked for the rest of your life.”

 “This feels really wrong.” Charlie said again, hands shaking.

 “Look, Charlie, things go wrong, you can probably quote me numbers on how often things go wrong, if I get killed or David or Megan or, god forbid, Don, what will happen is we will grieve, get drunk, get revenge and the Bureau will send someone new in. If you get killed there aren’t cloning vats in the basement of Quantico spitting out Charlie Eppeses. Understand?”

 “Yes.”  Charlie said quietly, running the numbers in his head for an agent being killed in the line of duty.  He had those numbers memorized a long time ago.

 “Now both hands, gentle but not loose. Aim for center off mass. Do _not_ shoot to injure. You’ll miss and anyone alive is still a threat. Broad stance. Squared shoulders. Don’t pull the trigger with your finger, squeeze with your whole hand. Got it?”

 Charlie nodded. His heart was in this throat going a mile a minute. He could feel the sweet oozing from his palms. Colby put protectors over his own ears then Charlie’s. Charlie scrunched up his face, pointed the gun at the target, and fired. Colby didn’t have to look at the target to know there wasn’t a mark on it. Charlie quickly put down the gun.

 “That felt really, really, really, really wrong.”

 Colby brought the target forward. Charlie squinted at it. “Shouldn’t there be holes in it?”

 “Not the way you shoot.” Colby reloaded the gun. “Ok, Charlie. First, open your eyes. You need to see what you’re shooting at.”

Charlie gave a tight nod.  “Open eyes, right.”

 “Second, do the math.”

 “What?”

 “You’re smart. You felt how much kick the gun had, you know how fast a bullet goes. The target’s 10 yards away. Do the math.” Charlie opened his mouth to object then closed it again. He put his hearing protectors back on and picked up the gun.

 “Do the math, do the math, do the math.” He felt Colby right behind him “Do the math.” He fired.

 This time there were a range of holes across the upper torso of the target. “He’s dead.” Charlie said softly, head still full of numbers relating to projectiles, and shooting statistics.

 “Yes.”

 “And I killed him.”

 “Yes. But you’re alive and so am I and so is Don and David and Megan and Larry and your dad. And yes, if you ever have to actually kill someone you’ll feel really bad and need lots of therapy but you’ll be alive.” He handed Charlie the reloaded gun. “Now do it again. Just better.”


	8. Six Digit Prime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunkness and math

David was bouncing on the balls of his feet outside the bar when Colby finally showed up.

“Hey man, what’s the emergency?” Colby asked.

“It’s Charlie.” At Colby’s confused look, David continued, “Look, his girl left him or something. He’s shit-faced and trying to pick a fight with a bunch of off-duty cops and he won’t leave.”

“So you called me?”

“He likes you.”

“Why not Don?”

“Believe me if you were him, you would not want your brother to see you this way.”

Colby entered the bar with trepidation. David had not been exaggerating. Charlie was only just standing at the bar, an array of shot glasses in front of him.

“Come on.” He gestured grandly to the people at the bar. “First person who can give me a seven digit prime, I’ll clear their tab, or marry you, whichever you want.” Everyone turned away, trying to ignore the obnoxious drunk. “Ok, six digits, I’ll make it easy. Anyone?”

“139,969.” Colby said loud enough for Charlie to hear. The mathematician spun around so fast he nearly fell over. When he regained his balance, he flung his arms wide.

“Colby! My good friend.” In a breath, Charlie went from happy to depressed, and wrapped his arms around Colby. “My good friend who won’t leave me for some Bombay banker, just ‘cause her dad can’t balance a check book and it’s all so fucked up.” Charlie sobbed. Colby heard a snicker from some corner of the bar and carefully peeled Charlie off, letting him attach to David, then approached the bartender.

“You a friend of his?” the bartender asked.

“Yeah. I’ll take him off your hands.”

“Good, I was about to call the cops.”

Colby pulled out his ID. “FBI. He’s with us.” The bar man shook his head sadly, “What’s the damage?” Colby asked.

“He’s been running a tab on credit. Pre-signed. Said he was trying to drink away an engagement ring.”

Colby cringed. “Ok. Add a bottle of tequila to go and cut him off.”

“Sure thing.” The barman handed over the bottle, the card, and a stack of napkins with Charlie’s equations all over it. “I thought they might be important.”

Colby flipped through them not recognizing anything. “If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.” He told the bar tender with a smile.

David and Colby each grabbed one of Charlie’s arms and hauled him out to Colby’s car. Once they had him strapped in and mumbling to himself, David asked, “A six digit prime?”

“Miss Honeyweather. Ninth grade. Five foot two, eyes of blue, and you got to memorize prime numbers for extra credit.” Colby smiled wistfully at the memory.

“And you still remember?”

“Oh, Miss Honeyweather was very inspirational.”

David gave a chuckle. “I bet. You sure you got him?”

“No problem. I’ll take him up to the hills, let him howl at the moon a bit.”

~

Charlie sat on the rocky ground and leaned against the bumper of Colby’s FBI-issued Ford and drank something from a bottle. He wasn’t sure what. The lights of L.A. sparkled beneath him. He picked up a rock and threw it at the lights. It landed somewhere in the darkness with a crunch.

Colby watched as Charlie tossed one rock then another. Before long he was on his feet, flinging stones at the vast unfairness of life, a great scream coming from somewhere long ignored. He finally threw the nearly empty bottle and listened to it shatter.

Colby caught Charlie as he fell over and began to cry. He knew this wasn’t his job or his place. It should be Don or even Larry but when you’re the guy who’s there...

Colby rubbed what he hoped were soothing circles on Charlie’s back until the young man passed out.

~

Alan opened the door at an ungodly hour of the night to find Agent Granger cradling his youngest son awkwardly in his arms.

“Oh my God! What..?

“Shhhhh. He just passed out. Where’s his room?”

“This way.” Alan quickly waved him in and up stairs. “What happened?”

“Pulled him out of the bar, very drunk.”

“I don’t understand." Alan said with a shake of his head. "Charlie doesn’t drink like that.”

“Amita left him.” Colby said gently.

“Yeah, like two weeks ago.”

“Well, I think it finally sunk in.” Colby gently laid Charlie on his bed on his side then grabbed a metal waist basket and put by the bed at easy puking distance.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“Hey, Don’s hauled my sorry drunk ass out of the bar more than once. Least I can do.”

Alan pulled off Charlie’s shoes and put light blanket over his boy. “Can I get you anything?”

“Glass of water would be great.”

The kitchen light seemed unpleasantly harsh after the dark drive from the hills.

“I guess he really had a thing for Amita.”

Alan shrugged. “I think he was more in love with the idea of her.”

Colby nodded, understanding. “I’ve had a few of those. They always seem to hurt more somehow. "

"Speaking as someone much older and possibly wiser, he’ll live. He’ll fell like hell in the morning, try to solve that minesweeper thing for a week, then be back on the case.”

“Make sure he eats, he’s looking a little too thin, dear god I just channeled my mother.” Colby said, then looked horrified.

Alan laughed. “Don’t panic ‘till you channel your mother and father simultaneously. That’s when it’s time to throw in the towel, get married, and have kids.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hey, can Charlie really hum the entire white album?”


	9. Bullshit

Agent Granger found Larry camped outside of Charlie's office.

"Is Charlie in? He's not answering his phone."

"I'm not surprised. He started filling in the sky two days ago." Larry said with a wistful smile.

"Well, it'll to have to wait. Something big has come up." Colby reached for the door.

"I wouldn't go in there. He's been throwing chalk at people. It's not pretty."

Colby opened a file and showed Larry the picture on top. Larry instantly turned away hand clapped over his mouth. "We have different definitions of not pretty professor. She's eight."

Colby entered the office to find Charlie practically engaged in combat with the board. He wrote equations as if waging war with them, chunks of chalk dropping off as calculated casualties. Every so often he would stop and rub something out.

"Charlie."

"Not now!"

"Charlie we have a case. It's important."

"Well, it'll have to wait."

Colby, who had hardly slept for the last several days himself, lifted Charlie by the back of his shirt, spun him around, and pinned him to the wall. "Professor Eppes. We have a sexual, serial, sadist targeting children, who is escalating his crime to every other day. We have gangs of roving vigilantes killing anyone who looks funny. We have this little girl," He pressed the photo to Charlie's face. "With her eyes gouged out, but left alive so she can deliver a taunting message, and your brother is out there being crucified by the press. Now you're going to take these files, and do your voodoo, and make sure this child is the last to feel such pain, and any argument you have is bullshit."

Charlie swallowed hard and nodded and was gently let down. He picked up a digital camera and handed it to Colby. "Could you take a good picture of each board then erase it please?" He asked softly.

"Sure."

"I'll start going through these files."


	10. Burn Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex!!!

  
Sometimes at the end of a case you have a few bottles of beer with the team to celebrate victory over the bad guys. Other times you drink to try to erase the memory of the previous weeks from your waking mind. Colby and Charlie were the only ones left at the bar. Megan had been gently coaxed from the bar by a worried Larry. David had wandered into the night at some point and Don had let some girl he was seeing drag him out.

Charlie was carefully writing equations on a bar napkin.

“Those don’t look right.” Colby insisted.

“What?”

“They look easy. I think I could solve that.”

“It’s a quadratic equation. Basic algebra. I don’t even need to write it out, I can do it in my head.”

“Then why are you doing it?” Colby asked.

“‘Cause it’s messy. My mind feels messy, dirty. It’s simple, basic, easy and always a messy answer.”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

“I don’t think I’ve drunk enough. I don’t feel right. Something’s bleeding and I don’t know what.” Charlie looked up at Colby. “Fix it.”

Colby swallowed hard. He felt like someone dropped a live bomb in his lap. Charlie’s eyes where dark and desperate for something. He licked the last traces of his drink off his lips and Colby felt himself shudder.

“Fix it.” He asked again.

“Ok. Let’s go home.”

The cab dropped them off in front of the Eppes’ family home. Charlie’s house, technically. Colby followed behind passively and noted that Charlie’s hands didn’t shake as he opened the door. Once inside, Charlie leaned him back against the door. The height difference made the forceful gesture rather less so. Charlie kissed him, but not the lips. Instead he latched onto a place below the jaw line, while his hands unbuttoned Colby’s jacket and untied the tie.

The weirdness of the overall situation finally caught up with Colby’s brain. He did a quick check and found that his body seemed to be in the game despite still being drunk. “Charlie. Your father...”

“Out of town.”

“Oh.” Colby took a deep breath. _'No fear',_ he thought. “Let’s find a bed.”

Charlie let go and Colby found himself passively following again. His heart was racing; this was way beyond drunken, terrified, gropes, in cold foxholes. This was...

Charlie sat on the bed and looked at him, his eyes far more calm then usual. “Take off your clothes, Agent Granger,” he said, voice firm and steady with a tone Colby never heard before.

Colby felt his cock jump and his body move of its own violation. ‘_And I’m a closet submissive.’_ He decided to file that reaction for analysis with the sexual identity crisis in the morning. In under a minute, he was standing naked in the room, his breath already coming in hard fits. Charlie stood and stripped himself. Colby noted the man was not completely without muscle but still too thin around the ribs. That, and where god had robbed him of height, he’d made up for in other areas.

Charlie pressed himself against Colby resting his head on the other man’s chest, counting the heart beats. “Burn me, Colby.” He finally said after a count of a hundred beats. “Cauterize this. What ever this is. Make me forget the numbers.”

Colby twisted Charlie’s head around to face his and kissed him. Not sweet and tender; hard and demanding. A kiss to bruise lips and draw away the very breath of the person. They tumbled onto the bed meant for one, hands scratching at each other, teeth biting, dragging out howls and groans from both men, the quick flashes of pain burning away other thoughts.

Quickly, Charlie found himself pinned to the bed, wrists held firm, cocks rubbing against each other. Colby pressed his hips down working that delightful friction. Charlie shook his head.

“Drawer,” he gasped out. Colby rummaged through the bedside drawer and found lube but no condoms.

“Charlie?”

“Please.”

Colby rubbed the lube over his cock and hands. This was going to be messy. Simple, primal, easy, but messy. Colby had only a little accidentally viewed porn to go on, but judging by Charlie’s relaxed expression, he was on the right track. Colby reached down and worked in one finger, then another. Charlie opened easy and gave out a low groan, a smile on his face. “I won’t break, Agent Granger.”

Colby felt himself become even harder at the use of his title in that wanton tone. He lifted Charlie’s hips, tossed his legs over his shoulders, and lined himself up. He gasped at the first thrust and Charlie cried out as it only gained him an inch but oh god, it was nothing like being with a woman, so impossibly tight, so hot. He felt Charlie relax so he thrust in again and again, each time gaining more ground. Both men were breathing hard and ragged. Colby looked at Charlie, hair tousled, eyes dark and swollen with lust, his whole body flushed a deep, rich tone. Larry was right. Beauty.

Charlie clenched tight dragging a cry from Colby. Colby pulled out quickly and thrust back in hard. It was Charlie’s turn to let out a strangled cry but Colby didn’t let up, each thrust long, deep, and calculated. Charlie’s balls ached and he reached for his own cock, only to have his hand batted away.

Colby picked up the pace knowing Charlie had to be close. He wrapped a hand still slick with lube and sweat around Charlie’s cock and gave it a squeeze, smiling at the desperate moan and thrusts it invoked. He let Charlie thrust into his large hand causing him to ride up and down on Colby's cock. When Charlie finally came, it was with a shout that probably woke the neighbors. Colby let out his own cry as Charlie clamped down on his cock, wringing his orgasm from him with painful intensity.  
_  
‘This is good.’ _was his last thought before passing out.


	11. Tossing a Football

Colby could tell by Alan’s expression that he was not expecting Agent Granger to be at the door when he answered it, but at the same time Colby’s casual presence at the house had been steadily increasing over the last few months. Alan looked thoughtful, and maybe even a little amused.

 “Agent Granger, come in, what can I do for you?”

 “Hi, is Charlie here?”

 “He just ran to his office to get something. A case come up?”

 “No, we were just going to toss around a football.”

 Alan froze. “You’re going to do what!?”

 “Well, I’m going to throw the ball and Charlie’s going to try and prove some strange drunken theory he has about L.A. smog causing extra drag on the ball to explain why the Bruins have a better throwing game at away games, and something about point spreads, and I wasn’t really listening.”

 “Oh. Ok. That makes sense, ‘cause I can guarantee Charlie’s never thrown a football in his life. Can I get you a beer?”

 “Sure.”

 Colby always maintained that beer tasted best from the bottle standing in the kitchen. He was really enjoying his beer when innocent-looking Alan Eppes blindsided him.

 “So how’s this thing with you and Charlie going?”

 “Uh...what?” _‘Smooth Granger.’ _He thought to himself.

 “You know. This thing you and Charlie have got going.”

 “Uh…well.” Colby decided his brain had officially run off without him. All that was left was blind panic.

 “I’m a father you know. And I know my sons. It takes something special to get Charlie away from the blackboard.”

 Colby was still panicking. He took another sip of beer trying to find words to explain something that had literally never been talked about.

 Alan gave a little laugh. “You don’t have to completely panic. I lived through the 60’s you know? I even remember bits of it. My Charlie’s not always in touch with rest of the world. Sometimes he needs a bit of a kick from someone to remind him it’s there, that there’s more to life than numbers.”

 Alan gave Colby a moment to speak but all Colby could think about was running.

 “You know when Charlie was nine, we took him to this special class for gifted kids. There was a dozen of them all as smart as Charlie, if not more so. We only left him there a week, not because he wasn’t learning but ‘cause that’s all he was doing. There was no play, no joy. I know for a fact two of those kids killed themselves and another one is an alcoholic, junior high, science teacher.”

 Colby couldn’t picture Charlie crashing like that, but then what had that first night been? It wasn’t the first time he’d caught Charlie as he fell.

 “Charlie’s smarter than that,” he finally said.

 “You may not have noticed Agent Granger but often really smart people can be complete idiots.”

Before Colby could answer the front door opened.

 “Hey, Dad.” Came a shout from the door.

 “We’re in the kitchen!” Colby called out, still feeling a little trapped and trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

 “Hey, Dad, hey, Colby. Sorry I’m late. I was busy stealing the air quality monitor from environmental engineering and Larry’s coming by to help with the calculations.”

 “Well, you two have fun. I’ll see you later.” Alan said. “Oh say, Agent Granger, do you play chess?”


	12. Christmas Dinner

  
It had been almost five years since Colby had made it home for Christmas dinner and he was willing to swear that the family population had doubled. The number of nieces and nephews and cousins he’d never met seemed completely absurd. At the same time, he was willing to swear nothing had changed. His mother looked a little older, his brothers a little harder, his sister a little more tired and yet the game was on TV and the turkey was in the oven, it could have been ten years ago or ten years from now. He looked down to see a small girl of maybe four pulling at his leg. She held up a small writing pad and a pencil.

“Problem?” The little girl asked. Colby looked to his sister, Mary Jo, for clarification.

“Someone taught Katie how to add. Just write two plus two a few times and she’ll go bug someone else.” Colby smiled. Seemed like he was destined to be around math geeks. He wrote 2+5 and was quickly rewarded with a 7.

“Problem!” Katie demanded with a joyful squeak.

7+8

15 was written.

“Problem!” Katie demanded again. Colby wrote 576+837 and was not as startled as he should have been when the answer came back as quickly as 2+5.

“Katie, can I show you something?” Katie nodded glad to have found an adult that enjoyed her game. Colby quickly wrote down a series of multiplication questions with the answers and long work so she could see what he did.

She frowned in concentration for a moment then smiled and clapped her hands. “Problem!”

Colby wrote out a dozen multiplication problems on the page using larger and larger numbers. He used the calculator on his phone to check the answers as fast as Katie wrote them. His heart was pounding in his chest and Katie’s smile was lighting up the room. When she was done, Colby got up from the couch taking his niece’s hand in his.

“Mom, I need to use the phone to make a long distance call. I’ll pay you back for it.”

His mother made a vague hand gesture from the kitchen engrossed in turkey basting.

In Pasadena, Charlie jumped, sending a ragged line of chalk across his equations, as Alan knocked on the garage wall to get his attention.

“Phone for you. It’s Agent Granger.” Charlie knew he smiled more than he should have, considering the state of his equation.  Charlie picked up the phone in the living room where Don had just muted the game, probably wondering why one of his agents was calling his brother.

“Hey, there.”

“Hey, Charlie. How are things going?”

“They’re fine, just catching up on some stuff.”

“Great. Look, I need a bit of a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to talk to my niece. I showed her how to do basic multiplication about ten minutes ago and she just multiplied four digit numbers together in her head.”

“How old is she?” Charlie asked.

“Four.”

“Oh.”

“Could you talk with her and then maybe talk with my sister?”

Listening in, Don and Alan were intrigued by Charlie’s end of the conversation. He was talking math, that wasn’t unusual, what was odd was that he was talking math the way he did when he was little. Basic arithmetic at first and within twenty minutes single variable algebra. From the other side of the phone, they could hear shrieks and giggles from a little girl.

Back at his family’s house, Colby watched in amazement as his little niece’s note pad quickly filled with larger and larger numbers and finally equations involving x. And she seemed so happy, like she’d been tied up and was finally allowed to run. He looked around at his family. The women were in the kitchen finishing dinner. The men were gathered around the TV and the hordes of children seemed almost feral as they ran around the place. Finally, Katie stopped writing and ran to her mother holding out the phone.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy! Problems man wants to talk to you!”

Colby’s sister looked very confused and warily picked up the phone. “Hello?”

In California, Charlie Eppes actually stood up straighter. “Hello, ma’am. My name is Doctor Charles Eppes, I’m a professor of Applied Mathematics at the California Institute of Science. I also consult with the FBI, that’s how I know your brother.”

Don and Alan looked at each other. Charlie seldom pulled out the full name and complete title.

Charlie continued, “I need to talk with you about your daughter, Katie.” Another twenty minutes passed and Charlie finally relaxed.

“Hey Colby… yeah… I know some people out there; I’ll have them get in touch after the holidays.” Charlie laughed at something the other men couldn’t hear. “Well you never know when lightning is gonna strike. But Larry’s working it… Yes… Yes…Well if she can’t afford the private tutors I’m sure I can find someone to work pro bono…she is brilliant… I’ll send my old math primers, they’ll keep her busy for a few months… Ok…My pleasure… I’ll talk to you later”. Charlie cupped his hand over the phone and whispered something. Then “Merry Christmas.” Charlie hung up the phone with a smile and Don who had never been as bright as his brother finally began to clue into something.


	13. A Talk with Don

Don liked this spot on the walkway overlooking the traffic. It was public yet private. The traffic acted like white noise, yet everyone in the building could see if they wanted, so it wasn’t like it was a clandestine meeting. Agent Colby Granger approached.

“Hey Don, you wanted to see me?” Don rubbed his hands on his pants, they were starting to sweat.

“Ok. Colby for the rest of this conversation I’m not your boss.” Don could see Colby begin to panic. “I’m the older brother of the guy you’re fucking.”

Colby took a deep breath. “Could I have my boss back? He’s less scary.”

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

“So you and Charlie are..?”

“Um…yeah.”

Don lowered his head, since he’d been secretly hoping he’d just been delusional since Christmas and all the little signs he’d been seeing had been completely in his head. “What is it? I mean is this a drunk thing, date on weekend thing, have and to hold thing?”

“I don’t know. It’s a thing.”

“Well, that’s specific.”

“Don, I’m not Let’s-Talk-About-Our-Feelings guy and Charlie’s If-It’s-Not-Numbers-It-Usually-Doesn’t-Exist guy. Between the two of us, we’ve honestly never talked about it. It’s just a thing.”

  
“A thing?” Don repeated.

“A good thing?” Colby suggested.

Don closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

“He’s got his thing, I’ve got my thing, and sometimes, we have a thing together.”

Don sighed.

“Look, Don, we’re not those guys.”

“Which guys?”

“Vacations in Aspen, commitment ceremony, house in the suburbs, 2.5 Cambodian orphans guys.”

Don squeezed his eyes shut.

“You’re picturing the commitment ceremony aren’t you?”

Don gave a tight nod. “Yep.”

“Does it end with my Uncle Rob getting drunk, taking a swing at your dad, knocking over the candles on the table, and burning the whole place down while my mother cries?”

“Basically, except it’s Larry crying.”

“Well, we’re not those guys Don. I mean do you know what it takes to get Charlie into a tux?”

“Ok.” Don was a little comforted by that thought. Not that he didn’t want to see Charlie happy, but the Bureau had sort of missed the caring, sharing 90’s and was stuck in the 50’s on a lot of levels. It could make things difficult for Agent Granger. “Do I want to know how long I’ve been oblivious to this?”

“Not really.”

“That long?”

Colby shrugged.

“Before or after Amita?” Don asked.

“After, but not like right after, I mean it’s not a rebound thing. At least I don’t think it’s a rebound thing, I mean rebound is like hook up twice don’t call back right?”

“I always call back.”

“Do they always answer?”

Don shrugged. “50/50. So…when..?”

Colby shuffled his feet.

“Colby?”

“After the Mainer case.”

Don felt his knees begin to go out from under him. He wrapped his arms around his chest and hunched down to the ground, trying to breathe. Colby took a few steps effectively shielding Don from anyone in the building who might be watching.

Colby had seen this reaction to that name before but it had come from Charlie, not Brass Balls Don Eppes.

“Oh, god.” Don said in a whisper.

“He worked that case too, you know.”

“I know.” Don felt a sickening knot of guilt twist his insides. After that case, he’d turned off his phone for three day and spent them crying in the arms of an old lady friend. He hadn’t given two thoughts to Charlie. “I didn’t think…” He looked up at Colby who had locked his jaw, obviously trying not to relive that case himself. “It’s just numbers.” Don said.

“It’s not just numbers.”

“I know. I know. Shit! It’s just… I forget you know?”

“Yeah. Sometimes he forgets too.”

Don was rhythmically beating the back of his head on the guardrail for being so stupid.

Colby looked around franticly, hoping no one else was watching Don fall apart. “Hey, Don? Could you stop that ‘cause when Charlie beats his head against walls I have to kiss him to get him to stop and, nothing personal, but that’s really not an option here.”

Don stopped banging his head and looked up at Colby.

“You know Charlie and I don’t really talk” Colby said. “But when we do…it’s hard…it’s like he doesn’t have the words to say what’s in his head, he’s usually never needs them.”

“Is he ok?”

“Yeah. He’s Charlie.”

“Right.” Don took a deep breath and stood up.

“Ok. Same rules for if you were dating the sister I don’t have. One: Hurt him and I’ll beat you to death with a shovel.”

Colby nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Two: I don’t want details. Ever! I’m serious. I do not want to know.”

“No problem.”

“Three: Get him pregnant and you have to marry him.”

Colby laughed. “Yes, sir.”

“Four.” Don paused for a moment “Don’t let him hurt you.”

“What?”

“You may not have noticed but Charlie’s mouth is not always connected to his brain and his ears. He doesn’t have an evil bone in his body, but he can be a right royal bastard without meaning to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Don looked pensively out into space for a moment wondering why Charlie could never pick the easy way of doing things. “You know why he’s doing this?”

“Uh…no?”

“Grandchildren. He’s thinking ‘_I hook up with a guy grandchild responsibility is all on Don.’_ The little snot. This is malicious, like when he did my homework and wrote all the answers in reverse.”

Colby laughed. “I thought you said he wasn’t evil?”

“I’m his brother. Completely different rules apply.”

Colby nodded. “So. We’re ok?” Colby asked tentatively.

“Yeah. And don’t worry about the Bureau. I mean, official policy…”

“Is on paper." Colby cut in "Half the AD’s are Mormons, and they burned Hoover’s dresses. I know.”

“I hear the Smithsonian’s got a few them. You’re a good agent. I’m not about to try to fuck your career.”

“Thanks, Don.”

“Oh. You know my dad’s invited you to Seder this Friday?”

“Yeah. Charlie mentioned it. Said it was something he liked to do?”

Don gave a chuckle that made Colby’s face twist with worry. “I don’t know what Charlie ‘mentioned’ but the last girlfriend of mine to get a Seder invite was the one I almost married. Google it, scrub up, do not be late.”


	14. Passover

_“So...um...my dad wants to know if you’d like to come to Seder dinner this weekend?”  
“What?”  
“Um, Passover. Dad makes dinner, does this thing every year.”  
“Okay. I mean, if it’s a family thing, I don’t want to get in the way.”  
“No, no, I mean, Larry’s going to be there.”  
“Megan, too?”  
“I think she’s got that thing at Quantico.”  
“That’s right. I forgot. So, sure. Unless you’re not comfortable...”  
“No, no. It’s fine. It’s just a thing my dad does. I mean we’re not really Jewish, Jewish, I mean have you ever seen the way Don eats mu shu pork? I think he thinks if he doesn’t chew, it doesn’t count, but dad tries to do Passover and Hanukkah. Unless you’re not comfortable. I mean we’ve never talked about...”  
“No, it’s fine. I mean my family does Christmas, Easter and prays a lot during playoff season.”  
*Laughter*  
“And you get to watch Larry try to eat non white food out of politeness.”  
“Dinner and a show.  How can I refuse?”  
“So...ah...this Friday. Get there before sundown.” _

  
Alan Eppes stood and surveyed the table. His sons were on each side of him. Larry, the strange little physicist who held a place in his heart somewhere between brother and son, sat next to Don.   Across from him was Agent Colby Granger, this Midwest farm boy scrubbed up and looking like fresh hay and apple pie who had somehow attached himself to his youngest son. Alan reached out and put a hand on the head of Don and Charlie.

“This is good.” Alan began. “This is Passover. To have your sons with you. Safe. Passed over by God’s wrath, blessed. And so tonight we sit at this table, my blessed sons, my boys, my family, my heart, and know this is the way it should be. This is good.”

Larry smiled, and Alan was happy that Larry was secure in his place as an honorary Eppes, knowing Alan’s blessings extended to all who sat at the table. Alan looked across at Agent Granger who looked a little awed at the brief words and seemed to lean towards Charlie as if to absorb the aura of a father’s love. The poor agent hadn’t yet realized that he was an Eppes now and he better just get used to it.

“Now, first prayer, then food.” Alan lit the candles and began.


	15. Switch hitting

Charlie was making happy little mumbling noises into his pillow as he came down from a really impressive orgasm. He could feel Colby’s warm presence next to him, but couldn’t even get up the energy to reach out and cuddle. Charlie took a deep breath and let out a happy sigh. Colby might not have had much experience in the beginning, but dear god, he was a fast learner. Charlie actually had every desire to sleep the rest of the Saturday away after the events of the last hour. The nice thing was that for once it was actually an option. He felt Colby rest a hand on the small of his back.

“Charlie?”

“Hummm?”

“What’s it like for you?”

“‘s nice.” Charlie mumbled from his pillow.

“I mean. What’s it feel like on...um...the receiving end?”

Charlie gave a wicked grin and was glad Colby couldn’t see it. As much as Don might like to think of his brother as the blushing virgin, Charlie was anything but. That Berkeley professor wasn’t the only fan of his early work and Charlie freely admitted to himself that his occasional desire to go back to fluid dynamics had a lot to do with the amount of play he was getting from the yachting set in those days, not to mention the stupidly absurd amounts of money he was making crunching numbers for their boats. Sometimes, he almost felt guilty for debauching Colby as much as he did, the poor little innocent farm boy. Charlie tried to school his features into something non-lecherous before rolling over.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Colby muttered, averting his eyes. Charlie scooted over and nuzzled Colby’s neck right behind his ear. Colby made a slight whimpering noise. Charlie had found that spot really early.

“If you’re that curious,” Charlie whispered below Colby’s ear. “You can find out.” He darted out his tongue and gave a slight lick to the earlobe. A shudder ran through Colby’s body and Charlie felt a pressure against his leg that impressed him. He wasn’t sure what super soldier experimental vitamins the army might have pumped into his lover but the man had the kind of recharge rate usually reserved for fourteen-year-old boys with their first copy of Playboy.

“I…uh.” Colby stuttered.

Charlie gave another lick. “Don’t worry, we can go slow. And you can always say stop.”

Colby wasn’t sure how they’d gotten from idle curiosity to his body screaming ‘dear god fuck me!’ but Charlie was rubbing small circles on his lower back that were making his body wake up and his brain melt.

“Ok.” He heard himself sigh.

Charlie felt the lecherous grin return. He’d been perfectly happy with Colby fucking him into the mattress on a regular basis and wasn’t going to bring up changing positions, but if Colby was willing to go there, he was not about to say no. Charlie rolled Colby onto his front and immediately saw the man stiffen. He placed a kiss at the back of his neck.

Colby heard Charlie rummage through the bedside table. A moment later, he felt Charlie’s surprisingly strong hands, well oiled, begin to work the muscles in his lower back. Colby let out a happy moan. Charlie was very good at this. Actually, Charlie was very good at a lot of things that Colby never had the guts to ask the whys or wherefores. When his spine felt like it was made of rubber, Charlie’s hands slipped down to his ass and thighs giving them the same treatment. The hands left for a moment and he felt Charlie reposition kneeling between his legs spreading them slightly. Colby knew he stiffened a little and Charlie started the massage all over again. Colby was almost on the verge of dozing off when he felt warm oil trickle between his ass cheeks. This wasn’t their normal lube; this was silky and smelled of spices Colby couldn’t place. He felt Charlie gently spread his buttocks and place a kiss on the inside of each cheek.

“You can always say stop.” Charlie said softly.

Colby nodded into his pillow. Colby barely felt the first finger enter. It had to have been a pinky or something. He was more aware of Charlie’s tongue drawing circles on his tailbone causing him to arch up off the bed. The second finger he felt a little more and gave a slight gasp.

Charlie’s tongue didn’t stop – He was determined to prove a distraction and his fingers didn’t move for a several minutes until he felt Colby relax again. He scissored them slightly and was able to work in more oil before slipping in a long middle finger. Colby let out a slight whimper but Charlie didn’t stop. He was looking for something and when Colby gave a full body jump, he knew he’d found it.

“Oh god.” Colby breathed waiting for the dancing lights to clear from his vision. He heard a low chuckle and could only guess at the look on Charlie’s face. He felt Charlie’s hand move and felt the electricity jump through his body again and again. Within moments, Colby found himself panting like a dog in summer. When Charlie worked in a fourth finger and stretched, Colby let out a cry but didn’t say stop.

“You can say stop.” Charlie said for a third time. Colby shook his head and bent his knees, raising his ass into the air. Charlie smiled and decided he would get a couple of mirrors this week. Colby should be able to see himself like this, perverse and gorgeous, spread out like some bacchanal offering.

Colby felt suddenly empty as Charlie removed his fingers, but a few unmistakable sounds gave him an idea of what was about to come. He felt something slippery poured directly into his ass quickly followed by a blunt heat that sat at his entrance and waited. Finally, Colby couldn’t take the wait anymore and pushed back sending the head of Charlie’s cock past the first ring of muscle.

Charlie let out a happy moan. It was just what he was hoping for -- for Colby to really want this.

Colby let out a sharp hiss and felt Charlie’s hands kneading the muscles of his lower back.

Charlie was glad for their romp earlier. It would let him take his time. Do this right. Charlie pushed in a little more. It was tempting to drive right in. It had been a long time since he’d been anyplace so hot, tight, and virginal.

Colby thought he would go insane. Charlie was moving at glacial speeds, with each tiny shift he felt full and would swear he could take no more then Charlie hit just the right spot.

Colby’s hips leapt and Charlie found himself buried to the balls in Colby Granger. He reached around and gave Colby’s cock a friendly squeeze. He felt Colby’s ass squeeze back in response and Charlie though he just might cum right then and there. When Colby was relaxed again, Charlie started the equally slow journey back out, each move getting him small whimpers from Colby who still had his face buried in the pillow.

Colby was afraid that Charlie was going to pull all the way out. He didn’t think he could take that. Even half out, he felt an empty ache wanting to be filled. Charlie came close, leaving just the head in.

Charlie heard Colby take a deep breath and felt the man push back. _‘Someone’s eager.’_ Charlie thought happily. He steadied Colby’s hips, not wanting Colby to hurt himself and got a frustrated whimper in return. Charlie pushed in again, slow but steady. He reached around and put a hand around Colby’s rock hard cock before he headed back out, setting a slow but steady pace he knew he could keep up for a good stretch.

Colby could hardly think, each thrust made him see stars.  It very nearly hurt to breathe and he wanted to cum more than ever before, yet it didn’t seem to be happening. Charlie must have decided to pick this moment to show off some sort of freaky Zen stamina.

Charlie could feel Colby cock leak between his fingers and twitch and swell with each thrust. Colby was panting and shaking and Charlie knew he had to be close, so he picked up the pace switching to fast, short strokes, making sure to hit the right spot each time. Colby began to keen and Charlie felt his own need grow. He worked his hand on Colby’s cock, keeping pace with his hips until Colby let out a bellow and came in thick heavy spurts, clamping down so hard around Charlie’s cock that he literally couldn’t move. Colby took several deep, desperate, breaths and loosened up. Charlie gave few fast, deep strokes and came himself. Both men collapsed, Charlie rolling off onto his back sucking in air in deep gulps.

When his heart rate returned to normal, Charlie checked the gently snoring Colby for any damage and felt rather smug at finding none. He snuggled back up against Colby who woke up briefly and gave him a soft sleepy kiss before closing his eyes again.

_‘This is good’ _Charlie though before dozing off himself.


	16. Taking a Bullet or Three

_“Where are they?”  
“Right flank.”  
“Cover me.”  
“Get the girls.”  
“What was that?”  
“Shit!”  
“Agent down! Agent down!”_

  
“…Yes ma’am…yes…the doctors assure me he’ll be fine…yes ma’am…he’ll get back on the horse…Well yes ma’am…That’s why we wear vests…We’re all very proud of him…yes…We’ve got half the office in the waiting room, driving the doctors nuts…Yes ma’am, it’s even on the news…Yes…Yes. We caught the bad guys, took 2,000 guns off the street, and half a ton of drugs, and fifty young girls get to go to school instead of brothels…Yes ma’am…we caught their bosses to and there’s a team sweeping down on their bosses as we speak…Well, we couldn’t have done it without him…In about a month…We’ll make sure you and the family get out here for the ceremony…Yes ma’am…Well, if you could bring baby pictures, it’s traditional so the recipient can be properly mocked by his fellow agents.” Don looked over his shoulder to the hospital bed where Agent Granger weakly gave him the finger. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure he calls as soon as he’s awake again…Well, it’s the only time an agent’s allowed the really good drugs…Of course…It’ll be nice to meet you too…Ok…Bye.” Don clicked off his phone.

“How is she?” Colby asked through dry lips.

“Shaken, but she sounds tough.”

“She is.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot.”

“Funny that.”

Colby looked around. “Where’s Charlie?”

“I sent him to your place to grab some stuff. He’s been hanging around you too much.”

“Why?”

“He nearly hit a doctor.”

“Really?” Colby tried to work up some surprise but was still a little too groggy.

“Some shitty little intern wasn’t going to let him through. He picked the guy up, put him against a wall.”

“Charlie?”

“Well the guy was shorter than him.”

Colby smiled weakly. “I’ll have him shaking down nerds for lunch money yet.”

There was a quiet knock on the door and Charlie’s head came around the corner. “Hey. You’re awake.”

“Yeah. It’s another ten minutes before I get more morphine.”

Don looked between the two.

“I’ll go sooth the barbarians at the gate.”

“Sure, Don.”

Don shook his head. Those two might call it just a thing, but if _Charlie_ was resorting to violence to get to the guy he was sleeping with, they were going to have to think up a better word for it.

Back in the room, Charlie sat down next to the bed and stared at his hands.

“Hey, Charlie. What’s wrong?”

“You’re dead.” Charlie said softly.

“Not according to several very good doctors.”

“Statistically speaking, you’re dead.”

“Hey, statistically speaking, no one wins lotto.”

“You don’t win lotto twice Colby! You’re dead. You died. You…”

Colby reached out and grabbed Charlie by the shirt. He gave a light tug and guided Charlie’s face until it was right above his. “Charles Eppes, listen to me. I am alive. This is my hot, fetid, haven’t brushed in three days breath on your face. That annoying beeping is my heart pumping my blood around my body.” He put one hand against Charlie’s cheek. “This is the warmth of my living hand on your face. Got it?” Charlie nodded, leaning into the touch. “I am one lucky son of a bitch and you’re right, tomorrow I may not be lucky but if half of Larry’s babblings are right tomorrow doesn’t actually exist anyways and everything is now and right now I am alive.” Charlie had closed his eyes unusual feelings he had no name for twisting about his insides. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Now give me a kiss before your brother comes back.” Charlie bridged the gap of only inches and kissed him.

On his side of the kiss, Colby felt like he’d gotten another morphine hit. It wasn’t their usual kiss, probing and tactile, this one had such softness, like Charlie was afraid he might break. Colby took a deep breath and knew that this was a different thing, different but good.

When Charlie broke off the kiss and sat back down, he had a slightly guilty look on his face.

“What’s wrong now?”

“I picked up your mail.”

“So?”

“Your landlord is selling. He wants you out in a month.”

“Shit.” Colby desperately prayed for the beep from the morphine machine that would let him forget Charlie’s last few words. “I’m going to be a gimp for a month.”

“Hey, it’s ok. You can use the spare bedroom at my place and just put stuff in storage until you’re up for apartment hunting.”

“Charlie, you don’t want me limping around getting in the way.”

“It’s my house. It’s the least I can do for the ‘hero of the city.’”

“Ok. But just a month.”


	17. Receptions for Colby

  
Colby really wanted a beer. He hated these things when they were for other people. Standing around, smiling at the bigwigs, pretending he actually liked the agent who just got whatever. The fact that Colby was the center of attention at this one just made it worse. His leg itched, his face hurt from smiling and he couldn’t even sneak out because his mother was there. He looked across the room to Don who had a nice cold beer held easily between his fingers, the nice cold beer that Colby couldn’t have because beer mixed with his pain medication ended in really regrettable actions as the photo taped to the inside of the last stall of the men’s room attested to.

He saw his mother wend her way across the room to him. He took another sip of orange juice, really wishing there was vodka in it.

“Hi mom. Enjoying yourself?”

“Oh yes dear. Everyone’s so nice and they’re all so proud of you.” Colby wasn’t about to tell her that he hadn’t actually met half the people in the room. “And this suit looks so nice. Where’d you get it?”

“Oh downtown.” Actually it’d been a studio auction. They’d been auctioning off the old West Wing wardrobe. Half the LA field office had shown up. The suit had been a Secret Service special. The tag that said Oval Office Agent 3 was still on the inside. Whatever desperate no name actor Agent 3 had been, he’d been just the right size. Colby’d even managed to pick up a Santos tux that just needed a little adjustment. He only wished Martin Sheen wasn’t so short.

“How’s your leg, dear?”

“Oh, it’s fine. Doctors say I’ll be off the cane in a week.”

“That’s good. I know how bored you get when you can’t be up and around. When you broke you leg in the 5th grade, I thought I’d have to break the other one just to keep you out of my hair.”

“I wasn’t that bad, Mom.” Colby said, his mind only half on the conversation. His eyes scanned the room until the found a mop of curly hair.

The last month with Charlie had been confusing. Bruised internal organs, cracked ribs, a bum leg, and heavy medication had put a crimp in their sex life. After a few days of trying, they resorted mainly to making out on the couch like teenagers and, heaven forbid, actually talking.

They still talked around the really big stuff, but at the same time, their thing had turned into a different thing that they still didn’t have a good name for. Charlie turned around and smiled at him from across the room and Colby had the sudden urge to throw the little geek over his shoulder caveman-style and have wild sex in the storage closet down the hall. Colby waved him over instead.

“Hey, Charlie. Charlie, this is my mom, Emily Granger, Mom, this is Professor Charles Eppes.”

“Oh, of course.” She took Charlie’s hand. “You’ve been sending all those math books to our little Katie.”

“That’s right. I hope she’s enjoying them.”

“We can hardly get her to do anything else. She runs right through them.”

“Well, I found my old multi-variable matrix primer. That should slow her down a bit, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll just give her P vs. NP.”

“That’s just mean, Charlie.” Colby said with a smile. Colby caught sight of Megan and Larry out of the corner of his eye and quickly waved them over, hoping a Charlie/Larry debate would impress and distract his mother.

“Larry, Megan, glad you could make it.”

“Like we would miss this.” Megan smiled, and Colby knew she’d caught the hit of desperation in his voice.

“Mom this is Agent Megan Reeves and Professor Larry Fleinhardt.”

“A pleasure, ma’am.”

“My, another professor. And I thought it would just be G-Men running around.”

“It’s the modern FBI mom. We embrace science. Why we stopped reading entrails almost a year ago.”

“Right, now we just read the stars,” Charlie said looking at Larry.

“If that is a crack at my chosen field of study Professor Eppes I’ll have you know I am very close to the secrets of the universe.”

“And how is interstellar string theory going these days?” Colby asked.

Charlie looked at him, took his glass, smelled it and handed it back. “Just checking.”

“I can’t show an interest in Larry’s work?”

“Not while sober.”

“Well it must be the pain killers.”

Everyone in the little group laughed.

At her son’s side, Emily Granger tried to follow the discussion between the two professors but quickly found it went into territories she’d barely heard of. She turned her eyes to her son expecting the bored glaze that his math teachers had always mentioned, and instead found him animated and smiling, occasionally even putting in an opinion of his own. She noticed he also wasn’t leaning heavily on his cane. Instead he was leaning just a little towards Professor Eppes. Charlie he’d called him, in a very familiar tone. There was laughter at some joke she missed, but she smiled anyways.

Charlie looked at his empty glass. “I’m going to grab another drink. Anyone want anything?”

“Beer?” Colby asked hopefully.

“Right, one orange juice. Anyone else?”

“Do you think they have milk?” Larry asked.

“Only if you come order it yourself.”

Megan and the professors wandered off to the bar, leaving Emily alone with her son. She watched as her son’s eyes followed the short mathematician across the room.

“Professor Eppes seems like a very nice young man.”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy.”

“You’re living with him?”

“Um… he’s letting me crash in the spare room ‘till I can get another place.”

“I see.”

Charlie worked his way back from the bar. Emily watched as her son’s fingers touched Charlie’s in the exchange of drink glasses and pleasantries. Emily put herself into what she called ‘church social mode.’ -- friendly smile, exuding politeness and light conversation while only one ear listened, and her eyes kept a sharp look on what everyone else was doing. Other men were brought over. Don Eppes, the boss. The comforting voice on the other end of the phone. Don was harder than his brother, with a short almost military cut controlling hair that probably curled like his brother’s when long. An older man, Alan, the father. Open, smiling, easy laughter. He asks after Colby’s leg, scolds him for standing too long on it. More conversation she doesn’t understand but her son does. Chess, music, sound waves, string theory, some joke about koi.

Emily realised these people are like the ones she sees on TV and didn’t think were real. The professors wear jeans with sport coats, casual, easy. They’ve probably never lifted a single shovel of snow or feared crop blight. They probably play tennis and eat raw fish. She was sure she saw some of that going around on the trays.

And Colby was comfortable with them. More relaxed than he’d been last Christmas. He’d spent his first day back home just staring off across the landscape, then the rest of the trip he’d spent with Katie, even taking the three hour drive to the nearest stationary store the day after Christmas to get her pads of graph paper and others with lines in columns instead of rows.

Then Emily watched as her son reached out and plucked a stray thread that had stuck to Charlie Eppes’ lapel. A simple quick movement, almost unconscious, that spoke volumes of familiarity and domestication. Charlie didn’t even notice, just continued with some explanation. More telling in Emily’s mind was the quick flick of Alan Eppes’ eyes seeing if he needed to be ready to defend…who? His son, her son?

“Colby,” Alan quickly barked cutting through the conversation. “Lean much more on that cane you’re going to break it. Fall over, crack your head.”

“Well, at least it’s a bit I don’t use.”

“Very funny. Let’s find you a chair.”

The group dispersed as Colby was led to some tables, obviously trying to hide the worst of the limp.

Alan looked at Emily. “Your son’s a good man,” he said a serious edge to his voice.

“Your Charlie seems like a nice young man.” Emily replied pleasantly, the vacant church wife look firmly in place. She wasn’t sure Alan bought it. She would bet Mrs. Eppes had had a similar look.

“He has his moments.”

“I’m surprised he and Colby get along so well. He always fell asleep in math.”

“Well, that’s my Charlie. He makes life interesting. Even numbers.”


	18. Larry and Megan’s Wedding

  
_“Megan what’s that?”  
“What’s what?”  
“That shiny thing on your finger that looks like a ring?”  
“Um…it’s a ring.”  
“A ring with diamond dust looking like a spiral armed galaxy and a big ass rock in the middle?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Would that be a ring of the engagement persuasion?”  
“Could be.” _

  
Larry and Megan had planned to just run off to Vegas with a couple of friends. Alan had said no. So had Don, Charlie, David, Colby, half the LA field office and all of CalSci. A few emails even came in from NASA. If Larry Fleinhardt was getting hitched to Megan Reeves, there was going to be pomp, circumstance, and a lot of witnesses.

Colby had never been involved in wedding planning. Men don’t do that where he’s from. However, an extravagant wedding needs muscle. Standing in the back of a conversation with dark glasses showing a bit of the shoulder holster got 18 month waiting lists shrunk to six and it was kind of fun. Plus he got to taste a lot of good cake. For Colby, cake was a serious weakness.

He and Alan had also taken to mediation between the couple. Megan wanted something like a church wedding but felt hypocritical about it. Larry pointed out his family was technically Jewish but had converted on paper during the war. Larry wanted to be married under the stars. Megan pointed out you couldn’t see the stars in LA unless you blacked out the entire city. Don said no to that.

The compromise had been a great hall, a federal judge and a chupah made of deep summer sky blue cloth, picked out in silver stars accurate to the night sky on the day of the wedding.

Alan laughed when he saw it since it was meant to represent the couple’s future home, but then again Larry lived in the night sky and Megan knew that.

Colby held the chupah with the three Eppes men and watched as Larry bounced on the balls of his feet, looking completely panicked.

Colby leaned in so he could whisper to the groom. “Larry, half the guest are heavily armed. You make a run for it, you won’t make it three steps.”

Larry looked at the judge. “Is that a threat?”

“Sounds more like a public service warning to me.” The judge said with a smile. Don laughed.

Larry whimpered.

“Ignore them.” Alan said “You love her, she loves you and you already know you can put up with each other. You’ll be fine.”

Everyone turned as the doors to the hall swung open. Colby knew his jaw was hanging open like an idiot but couldn’t seem to close it. Don and Charlie almost dropped their poles and Alan looked like he was  wishing he was 40 years younger. Even the judge blinked a few times.

 “She puts the brightness of any sun in the heavens to shame.” Larry whispered.

Charlie reached out and put a steadying hand on Larry’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he advised.

Colby watched as Megan walked serenely up the aisle and put her hand in Larry’s. Across from him, Charlie beamed in happiness for his friend. Colby thought he looked so young, eyes lit in a way only certain equations seemed to induce. He looked around at the other Eppes men. Alan stood there happy but with a touch of sorrow. Don looked happy if slightly amused at the whole thing, as if he had just won a bet. And considering the pools that had been running around the office, he might have done just that.

Colby looked back to Charlie as the couple said their vows. After a week of listening to Larry try to make M57 Nebula try to sound poetic, they had talked the couple into traditional vows. As Larry slipped the gold ring on Megan’s fingers Charlie’s face split into an even wider grin, eyes so full of joy and hope Colby gasped a the beauty of it.  When Megan threw her arms around Larry and kissed him, Colby had to close his eyes against impending tears.

_‘That is good.’ _He thought.

~

Charlie raised his glass. “When I first met Larry Fleinhardt, he had been assigned as my academic adviser. He hadn’t taken a shower in three days. He was literally writing equations on the walls, and was actually playing pulsar radio signals over these huge speakers at full volume, and I remember thinking ‘Wow this is the coolest adult ever.’” The groom’s side, also known as CalSci faculty, laughed. The FBI Los Angeles field office, AKA the bride’s side, not so much. “I soon realized that perhaps not everyone shared my assessment of Larry and I was afraid that he may spend his life with his head in the cosmos with no one to show him the beauty here on earth. And then Megan came along. Megan, who shook him up, horribly confused him, and made him think previously unimaginable thoughts. Megan who didn’t mind the ancient car, the white food, the lucky t-shirt that hasn’t been washed in decades. Beautiful Megan, who didn’t demand he be anyone other than Larry. May we all be so lucky. Megan, Larry may your love be as deep as the cosmos and long as time itself, assuming a linear definition of time.” There were some annoyed coughs from the audience. “To you.” The couple and the audience took sips of their drink.

Colby stood to give his toast, having been handed the job of person of honor. He had thought long and hard about this. “Megan. When you walked into the L.A. Field Office for the first time you turned heads. There you were -- smart, motivated, gorgeous and a scary good shot on the range. And I can honestly say there wasn’t a man in the place who didn’t look at you and think about you, him, big house in Virginia, and a half dozen mini G-Men running around the back yard.” There was a chuckle from the audience that Colby was hoping for. “Then suddenly, there was Larry and we didn’t get it. ‘What do they talk about?’ we thought. But I think now we get it. I get it. Larry, she’s your gravity, she keeps your path steady and constant. Megan, you’re more than just G-Girl with him. He brings out your humor and softness and weirdness and your killer smile.” Megan blushed. “Plus he’s an astronaut which is so much freaking cooler than any of us.” The small NASA contingent cheered. “So Megan, Larry, long health and clear skies.”


	19. Domestic Bliss

Charlie vaguely wondered if this was domestic bliss. Rare rain was gently falling on the roof as he marked papers at the dinning room table. Don was next to him going through review papers, while Colby filled out reports, and Alan looked through some building projects an old friend asked him to double check. The room was quiet except for the content scratching of pens, the rustling of papers, the hum of the fridge, and the fall of rain.

Don gave a small cough. "Colby?"

"Yes?" The agent looked up from his work.

"Not that I'm not flattered but I think that foot on my thigh is meant for Charlie."

Charlie looked up in time to see Colby turn bright red. Colby looked like he wanted to die as Don tried not to laugh. Alan Eppes kept his nose firmly in his papers, ignoring the boys' antics. Colby buried his face in his hands.

"Be nice, Don." Charlie said tersely.

"I didn't do anything."

"You were laughing."

"Was not."

"Margate Levinson."

Colby peeked through his fingers to see Don turn a similar shade to his.

"Don't you dare."

"So Don's in the 7th grade."

"Charlie. Don't!"

"And there's this girl."

"Junior Prom. Charlie. I swear to god. Junior Prom."

"Boys," Alan barked, still not looking up. "Behave. Do your homework."

"Yes, dad" were the Pavlovian mumbles.

Alan looked up and shot Colby a quick wink before burying his head back into paperwork.


	20. A Fight and 9 Months Ago

_“You don’t even know what you want!”  
“And you do?!”  
“Well, we never said we were exclusive.”  
“We never say anything!”  
“Well, then maybe you should go get drunk and fuck her! It seems to be your style.”  
“Well maybe I will!”  
*feet running*  
*door slamming* _

  
“There’s a note. Charlie.” Don said softly.

“Could you read it?”

“_‘Dear Professor. She’s probably not a genius but certainly more human than you. Her birth certificate is in the box. She’s a week old. Good luck.’ _No signature.”

“I know who it’s from.” Charlie said. He looked at the blanket wrapped bundle that his father was making cooing noises at. He took two steps back shaking his head. “No way. No way. I mean, no.”

Don looked at a second piece of paper. “Charlie, your name’s on the birth certificate.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Could she be?” Don asked. “Do the math.”

“Well yes but, no.”

Alan looked up from the bundle. “Of course she’s yours, Charlie. Look at the nose.”

“Dad, babies all look alike,” Charlie said with panicked exasperation.

“A quick paternity test. Charlie. All it takes,” Don said.

“She didn’t say one word.” Charlie was pacing around the room, wringing his hands. “Not even a phone call the day after.”

“Would you have wanted one?” Alan asked.

“No! But that’s not the point.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Charlie, Hold her.”

“What?”

Alan handed the bundle to his son. “Just keep her head supported. You’ll be fine.”

“You know, Charlie. This is illegal. We can bust her on child abandonment, endangerment.”

“Don’t worry about it Don.” Charlie looked down at the little girl. “What’s her name?”

Don looked at the certificate again. “Esther.”

“Esther. Good Jewish name, Esther,” Alan said with a nod.

Esther looked up at Charlie with dark gray blue eyes that couldn’t seem to pick a color.

“You ok, Charlie?” Don asked.

“Sure.”

Esther gave a disinterested yawn and stuck her fingers in her mouth.

Suddenly, the front door opened. “Hey guys. I got pizza. Chen’s got some health code violation or something.” Colby stared as the three men all stood frozen. He looked at the bundle in Charlie’s arms. “Hey, Charlie? What’s that?


	21. Teething

Colby Granger was wandering back and forth across the living room rug when Alan Eppes got up to get a drink of water.

“What are you doing up?” Alan whispered. “It’s 3 a.m.”

“She was fussing again and Charlie’s got that grant committee thing in the morning.” Colby held Esther gently with one arm with the knuckles of his other hand in her mouth. “I keep trying to give her the ring but she seems determined to cut these teeth on my fingers.”

Alan shook his head as the obviously tired agent shuffled his feet in a slow circle around the room. “Why are you doing this, Colby?” he asked.

“Well Charlie’s got the thing…”

“I mean ‘this’ in the greater sense. She’s not your baby. Not genetically, not legally. You and Charlie have made no vows. You’re still young. A normal man would have run screaming into the night.”

Colby shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You must have an idea?”

“I never planned this, Alan. This life. Any of this. The last plan I made involved trying to find out if Megan was single. And this was before Larry.”

Alan shook his head. “You can’t be passive with your life Colby.”

“I know. I guess…” Colby sighed. “I guess this doesn’t feel wrong.”

“Does it feel right?”

Colby felt too tired to engage in great metaphysical thoughts like right vs. wrong. “Can I tell you something, Alan?”

“Sure.”

“After the first time Charlie and I were…together, I had a crisis.”

“I can imagine.”

“I mean right here, on this rug, for about an hour, pure panic, I thought I was going to die. Had no idea what was going on. It wasn’t a paradigm shift, the fucking gear box had fallen out and was a mile back on the road. I was going to run. I was going to transfer. I was going to propose to the next girl who gave me the time of day. Then Charlie woke up. He came out here, stood about where you’re standing and he had this look. I can’t describe it, Alan. I’ve never seen it before or since on anyone. I don’t have a name for it. It was peace and certainty and softness and something else. If I was an artist I could draw you a picture but…but he just looked at me. Didn’t say a word. He turned, went back to bed, and I followed.”

“And that was it?’

“We were drunk, Alan. I mean trashed. The next morning, we could have just blamed it on the booze, slunk off in opposite directions, and never mentioned it again.”

“But you didn’t.”

“We got up, took showers, got dressed, made breakfast, went to work. A few days later, a chance meeting, cup of coffee, small talk. It never felt wrong, Alan. Everything I’ve ever been led to believe was screaming it was wrong, but it felt good. It still does. Between the FBI and the military, you get good at not questioning things and I never felt a need to question this. Even now. I’m thinking about preschools and play dates and collage tuition and it just feels like I’m going with the flow. No need to question.”

“Most people call that love you know?”

Colby gave what could have been a laugh. “Or stupidity.”

“Often one in the same.”

Colby managed to work his knuckles out of Esther’s mouth, since she’d finally nodded off. He sat carefully on the couch and leaned back with a sigh. “You know I finally called my mother. Told her…well, kind of told her everything.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Bawled me out for not telling her about a new baby sooner.”

“Really?”

“Expect dozens of hand-made little dresses to show up any day now.”

Alan gave a soft laugh.

“She also told me she wouldn’t tell my brothers.”

“They wouldn’t take it well?”

“We’re Army rednecks, Alan. Seriously. Army, beer, football, trucks, women. That’s life. We’re not exactly encouraged or motivated to think new thoughts. Charlie makes me think about things that make my brain want to escape out my ears.”

“P vs. NP?”

“To name a few. And I almost understand some of it now. When I think about what my life was supposed to be, my teeth ache. I mean Charlie makes me want to tear my hair out some days but…how could I say no to him, how can I say no to his child?”

“Sounds like you’ve done a lot of thinking for a man who claims not to use his head.”

Colby just shrugged and carefully switched Esther to his other arm, trying not to wake her. “Alan, why don’t you have any problems with…well…I mean I moved into your house, your life, rearranged your fridge.”

“Hey, I lived through the 60’s.” Alan said with a dismissive shrug.

“Bull.”

“Colby, when you were shot Charlie’s heart broke, he didn’t know why, probably still doesn’t. We had no information. Just Agent Granger down. He imploded. Started trying to solve P vs. NP on his hand. How could I deny or begrudge my son one of the few human connections he’s ever made? He can’t quantify it so he won’t say it but he loves you. You are in his heart.”

Colby blamed the tears on how tired he was and was thankful for the dark of the room. “And the fact that I’m a guy?”

Alan gave a half smile and dismissive wave that spoke volumes of a life before a wife, kids, and craftsmen home.

“Alan, somewhere along the line, my life got really surreal. But in a good way. I think.”

“Say goodbye to Iowa.”

“Idaho.”


	22. Don’s Date

  
“Ok, what do we know about this woman?” Alan asked Charlie and Colby.

 “It’s been almost five months and she hasn’t dumped Don’s ass.” Charlie said.

 “Ok, so she’s a masochist.”

 “Have no fear.” Colby held up a file “Megan got her plate numbers last week.” Colby flipped open the file. “Rebecca Evens, 31, born in Maine, no family in the area, elementary school teacher, masters in art and early childhood development. Parking tickets, owns a small condo near her school, busted on her 18th birthday for holding a joint, plead no contest, no attempt to have the files wiped or sealed. Registered Green Party. Donates to various nonprofits, nothing too fanatical, and filed an insurance claim for extensive car damage about five months ago with Donald Eppes signing as a witness to the damages.”

 Alan looked sideways at Colby. “I find it really creepy that you can know that.”

 “Big Brother is watching.”

 “All right,” Alan said clapping his hands together. “Ground rules for the night. Colby, no shop talk, we want it to look like Don has a life.”

 “Hey.”

 “Charlie, no cognitive emergence or P vs. NP.”

 “What?”

 “People don’t like feeling like idiots.”

 “And you.” Alan pointed to Esther already in her highchair. “No throwing food tonight.” Esther giggled and slapped her hands on the tray.

 “So what do we talk about?” Colby asked.

 “Normal stuff. Music, baseball, anything, and hide that file.”

 They were still scrabbling with last minute table settings when the door opened.

 

“Hey guys.” Don called out as he opened the door, secretly hoping for no response, that somehow everyone had forgotten.

 “In the dining room.” He heard Charlie call out.

 Don found his family scrubbed up with their best behavior faces on and had a sudden sinking feeling. “Everybody this is Rebecca Evens. Rebecca, my father Alan Eppes, my brother Charlie, and Colby Granger.”

 There were handshakes and pleasantries all around.

 “And the one drooling is Esther Eppes.” Esther looked in the direction of her name and decided the new person was uninteresting and went back to her Cheerios. Don couldn’t help but remember Charlie at the same age.

 As the night progressed, Don was impressed at his family’s behavior. The small talk was reasonably normal and thankfully, Esther made a good talking point.

 “So,” Alan finally asked, “Don, as usual, has told us nothing. How did you two meet?”

 Rebecca gave a smile and Don winced. “It’s boring dad. Nothing special.”

 “Maybe not for you.” Rebecca said.

 “What happened?”

 Don began to turn red with embarrassment.

 “So there I was have a very bad day.” Rebecca began. “Fight with the boss, lost my check book, running late, one of those days. So I’m looking for my keys, when I turn around and see this madman running towards me, waving his arms, then he takes a flying leap and tackles me to the ground just as what I think is a large rock goes over us, lands on the car parked ahead of mine, and explodes.”

 “How did I miss this?” Colby asked.

 “You were concussed.”

 “Man, I knew I missed something good.”

 “So Don looks down at me and says ‘Hi. Don Eppes. FBI. Sorry for the inconvenience.’”

 Everyone at the table cracked up except for Don who put his face in his hand. “What was I supposed to say ‘Sorry about the grenades, are you free for coffee?’”

 “Well a moment later, he jumps up and runs off, leaving me in the gutter, but with his business card mysteriously in my hand.”

 “Ah. So, that’s the new technique for picking up women on operation.” Colby commented with a sage nod.

 “Ten minutes later, I’ve finally managed to sit up, when who should waltz back around the corner.”

 “Dragging two medics,” Don added in his defense.

 “Dragging two medics is Mr. Sorry-for-the-Inconvenience himself, Don Eppes. My knight in shining FBI standard-issue body armor.”

 “Why Don, mixing business and pleasure. We didn’t think you knew what the second one was.” Alan joked to his eldest son.

 “Hey. I know how to have fun. I like baseball.”

 “Don’s even agreed to coach the schools junior baseball team next month. He’s so good with the kids.”

 Don looked at the cross eyed expressions on the face’s of his family. “What? I like kids,” He protested.

 “And the happy dance you did when you realized you didn’t have to produce grandchildren?” Charlie asked.

 “Joyful celebration of my brother’s good fortune and bounty.”

 The table laughed and Rebecca smiled.

 For her part, Rebecca was really warming up to this family of men.

 She hadn’t just fallen into the arms of Don Eppes as much as she wanted to. They had both gone slow, a set of cracked ribs helping on that account. After their third date, Rebecca had stood at her front door with Don.

 “I had a really nice time tonight,” she had said.

 “So did I.”

 “So, are we on for next week?”

 “Sure…um.”

 “I don’t like the sound of that um.”

 “I really like you Becca, but…”

 “But?” Rebecca’s heart had sunk.

 “Before we keep doing this, I’m thinking there needs to be a little buyer beware here.”

 “Such as?”

 Don had taken a deep breath. “Ok, full disclosure. I’m a workaholic and a commitment phoebe. I eat at my dad’s three days out of five because I can’t stand my own cooking. The FBI makes me see a shrink every other week ‘cause they think I’m trigger happy, but I’m really good at what I do so they’re not going to pull me out of the field. My brother’s one of the 50 smartest people on earth, yet so in denial about his relationship with one of my male agents that after four years, they still describe it as a thing. We have all kinds of joint baggage from our childhoods and there’s this guy called Larry who only eats white food and will try to convince you time doesn’t exist.  My team gets assigned serial killers, rapists, spree killers, school shooters, bombers and terrorists, and all that leaves a nasty residue on the inside of my skull and I really like you Becca and I really don’t want anything that’s screwed up about me to accidentally screw up you.”

 Rebecca had blinked a few times trying to process everything that had just been said, but it was the last part that had really stuck out.

 “Don, that’s actually really sweet.” She had given him a kiss on the cheek. “How about we take it one date at a time?”

 And they had until she knew not just the sweet, funny Don Eppes that liked pizza and monster movies, but the Don Eppes that had to leave when duty called but always remembered to call her later and always made it up to her.


	23. Reading

Colby tried to get into bed without waking Charlie. It didn't work.

"Hey." Mumbled Charlie.

"Hey, go back to sleep."

"You check on Esther?"

"Out cold."

"Good." Charlie let out a long breath. "Colby, Dad caught her reading his Ian Fleming novels today."

"You mean playing with them?"

Charlie shook his head slowly. "No. She was reading them."

"Charlie, she's three."

"I know. He had her read them out loud. Her pronunciation needs work but the comprehension is there."

"Wow. I though her vocabulary was good for her age but…"

"Colby, did you know her Spanish is almost fluent?"

Colby gave a little shrug. "Well, it's pretty good. She's been picking it up from the kids at the park."

"You should check and see. I think it's better than that."

Colby gave Charlie a kiss. "I knew you couldn't father a child who wasn't a genius."

"I'm good at math." Charlie objected. "It's a completely different part of the brain."

"Doesn't matter. She's brilliant just like her daddy."

"I'll take her in for an I.Q. test next week."

"Those numbers don't matter, Charlie. Come here." He wrapped his arms around Charlie and held him close "Go to sleep. Forget numbers tonight. Your little girl will be all about the words."

Charlie looked at him. "We are in so much trouble."


	24. Cleansing

  
There are days when Colby hated his job, there were days he hated his boss, and still more days when he really just wanted to take out his big ass gun and kill lots of people. This was so one of those days. They’d tracked down the sick bastard they’d been after for weeks but the arrest hadn’t been easy. All Colby wanted to do was get drunk and forget. Instead his boss had practically ordered him out of the bar. Told him to go home.

Colby opened the door with perhaps a little more force than necessary. Charlie was sitting by the door, apparently waiting for him.

“Hey.” Colby mumbled. Charlie gently kissed him.

“Dinner’s on the table.”

“I’m not hungry. Charlie, I just want…”

“Dinner’s on the table. Go eat.”

Colby’s objection caught in his throat. Charlie only used that tone of voice a few times. Once, the first night they were together. Another time with an interim dean who wanted access to some of Charlie’s military research. It was a tone without force but left no room for anything other than total obedience. Colby took off his jacket, went to the dining room, and ate the dinner on the table. It was roast beef with potatoes and green beans with the little crunchy onion things; it was food his mom would have made.

When he finished, not realizing just how hungry he’d been, Charlie was sitting across the table from him.

“Where’s Alan?”

“Fishing.”

“Where’s Esther?”

“On her first fishing trip.”

“Oh.”

“Go take a shower. Wash off the day.” That tone of voice again that somehow managed to bypass all of Colby’s higher brain functions.

Colby found the bathroom lit only by a couple of candles. He got in the shower but found his soap missing. In its place was a bar of something that smelled like a spice rack and was rough in his hands. It did the trick though, letting him scrub his skin raw in places. He hissed as the soap washed into the long scratches on his wrists and hands. When they’d arrested the bastard today, he had fought like a cat, biting and scratching.

When the water began to go cold, Colby got out and wrapped up in the large towel that had been left out for him.

He wandered to the bedroom that he and Charlie had shared since the spare room had been converted into a nursery and they had stopped pretending this was anything other than what it was. Charlie sat on the bed in his shorts, a steady look in his eyes. Colby shivered despite the warmth of the house, memories of his first night with this man flooding back, another bad case, another hard arrest, but he hadn’t been the one bleeding that night.

Charlie stood. “Lay down.”

Colby dropped the towel and lay down on his stomach. A moment later, something warm and wet was dripped along his spine and strong hands began to work the muscles of his neck with deep steady pressure. He groaned as Charlie worked his way slowly down his back until every muscle felt bruised and weak. Charlie’s warm, slick hands kneaded his ass releasing tension he hadn’t even known was there. When Charlie was somewhere around his thighs he realized that his face was wet and tears had been slipping from his eyes for some time now. His breath had a hitch but Charlie didn’t let up working each muscle with scientific accuracy. By the time Charlie got to his feet, the worst of the tears had dried up but there was now another problem which was a bit of a surprise. The case had sent his sex drive the same way as his appetite.

Charlie had finished his toes. “Roll over.”

Colby felt a little embarrassed as he rolled over, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like Charlie hadn’t seen him in this state before. Charlie leaned over and kissed him hard. Colby opened his lips passively, letting his mouth be claimed by a probing tongue. By the time Charlie broke off the kiss, he was gasping for air. Charlie stripped off his shorts and knelt between his legs. Colby’s head had rolled back, his eyes unfocused on the ceiling.

“Colby. Look at me.”

Colby’s eyes snapped to Charlie and he watched as the mathematician placed gentle kisses up and down the insides of his thighs. Then, at the soft flesh between the thigh and his cock, Charlie bit down, softly at first then harder. Colby hissed, his hips arching up. Charlie was marking him, bruising the flesh, it would last for weeks. A funny thought flitted across his mind that he should have the teeth marks tattooed. They would be permanent. No one else could mark him because Charlie was there first. Charlie licked the bite with long strokes. The skin wasn’t broken but each tooth mark stood out deep red against the flesh.

Colby’s eyes had fluttered shut again when he felt Charlie’s lips wrap around his cock. Charlie sucked him deep in, never letting up. One warm hand cupped his balls while the other still slick with the oil reached under him then began to work in him. Just one finger first, he hardly noticed. By three fingers he came, arching into Charlie’s mouth, a strangled cry tearing from his throat. He watched as Charlie swallowed deep, not a drop spilled. Colby let out a whimper at the sight. He felt like Charlie had drawn out his very blood, but it wasn’t enough. He felt strangely empty. His legs were lifted over Charlie’s shoulders.

“Look at me.” Charlie whispered again. There was a quick push and Colby felt himself filled. “Feel this.” And he did. He felt every inch of Charlie working in him. Filling him, stretching him, claiming him. Charlie went slowly. Each move considered, controlled. Colby thought he had never looked so in control, so completely sure of what he was doing. When Charlie came it was without a noise, but Colby felt the hot cum fill him, replacing what was lost, and for a moment, it seemed to make everything alright.


	25. Kindergarten

  
Esther practically skipped down the long echoing hall while Charlie and Colby moved with a little more trepidation. Colby had even tried to weasel out of this but Don had insisted on giving him the afternoon off. The bastard.

They reached Door 103 per the summons. It was dark and imposing. Charlie reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. They took a deep breath and opened the door. On the other side was a strange world of bright colors and tiny chairs. The walls were covered in letters and numbers worked out in bold primary colors. Mottos like ‘You are Special’ graced the walls as well.

Colby really wanted to shoot something except his main gun was back at the house, his ankle holster was in the car and Don had confiscated the one he kept at the small of his back before he even left the office.

In the room were three middle aged women who put out auras of calm, wisdom, peace, and understanding. Colby knew torturers who could do the same thing. Introductions were made all around. A teacher, a counselor and the principal. The head boss herself.

Charlie had sent Esther’s IQ test in when they registered her for kindergarten. A week later, a call came from the school. They wanted to meet her; test her in their own way.

“Now, Esther, we just want to see how well you know your letters.” The most pleasant of the three women said. Esther gave her a look. Colby tried not to laugh. It was the exact same look Charlie gave when people asked him if he could solve a math problem.

Colby gave a silent victory cheer when Esther raced through the flash cards without a hitch. They moved on to Dolch words and finally the principal pulled out some thick legal reports from the district which Esther read with only a couple of pronunciation slip-ups. Then she read the copy of the report that was written in Spanish on the back. When she was done, she slipped her hand around the back of her chair and got a secret low-down high five from her daddy.

The three women conferred amongst themselves then decided to try math. This was harder and Esther petered out around long division and had to do some of the multiplication on her fingers. She looked at Charlie when it got too hard, visibly upset.

“It’s ok, sweetie. It’s ok. You did very, very well.”

“You did very well indeed, Esther,” said the councilor. “I was wondering, could you tell me about your family and where you live?” Charlie and Colby gave the councilor and hard look, but she only said, “We just want to get an idea of her vocabulary use as well as her environmental awareness.”

Esther took a deep breath. Colby knew she liked talking about her family.

“I live in a big house with Daddy an' Daddy an' Grandpa an' Schrödinger my cat who is very much alive and doesn’t like boxes an' Uncle Don is there a lot too an' he works at the FBI Los Angeles Field Office with Daddy catching criminals an' sometimes Daddy helps too but Daddy is a mathematician at CalSci an' he works with Uncle Larry who’s a theoretical physicist an' cosmologist an' an astronaut an' is teaching me Greek an' Latin so I can look at the stars with him an’ he’s married to Aunty Megan who’s a criminal psychologist an’ catches criminals with Daddy an’ Uncle Don an’ on Saturday, Grandpa takes me to Temple so I can learn Hebrew an’ if there’s not a big case on, Grandpa cooks a big dinner an’ everyone comes over, even Becca sometimes who’s a teacher too but not all the time because Grandpa says she’s only sometimes talking with Uncle Don an’ other times she’s mad at him cause he’s married to his work and not her, but he’s been trying not to marry her for four years now an’ they should just get on with it or over it.” Esther finished with a firm nod.

Colby leaned over and whispered in Charlie’s ear. “Tell me that didn’t sound like a sitcom pitch.”

The three women looked at Charlie and Colby, once Esther had run out of breath. Colby had never realized just how odd his life sounded until it came eagerly from the mouth of a five-year-old.

“Esther, honey,” The teacher said sweetly, “Would you like to go outside and play while we talk to your daddies?” The teacher pointed to an open door with an enclosed play area beyond.

Esther looked at her fathers. “Can I have my book?”

“Sure.” Colby handed over a battered paperback copy of The Two Towers. Esther snatched it and ran outside. The women gave Colby an almost disbelieving look.

“Well, she finished Narnia a month ago. If she doesn’t have anything to read, she starts reading the dictionary and that’s just a little weird, even for our house.” Colby said defensively.

” We’re kinda hoping the Silmarillion will slow her down a bit. But her Elvish is getting good.” Charlie added.

“Along with the Greek, Latin, and Hebrew?” The principal asked.

Charlie shrugged. “You’d have to ask my Dad and Larry.”

The councilor rubbed her temples a bit. She had probably hoped this was a case of over eager parents seeing more that what was really there.

“When she calls you both ‘Daddy’, how do you know who she’s addressing?” the teacher asked.

“She uses a longer a sound when she’s talking about me and makes a slight t sound when she’s talking about Charlie,” Colby said. “You get used to it.”

“Well, obviously she’s going to need some sort of advanced program…”

“No.” Charlie cut in firmly. “She’s five.  She needs to be in kindergarten with other five year olds.”

“Mr. Eppes, what she could learn here is marginal. In more advanced classes…”

“She’ll get bullied, or...or ignored by the teacher, and kids twice her size will make her do her their homework and...And when important people come to the school, she’ll be treated like some circus freak and she’s only five and…”

Colby could usually see a Charlie meltdown coming at least twenty minutes away but this was out of left field. “Charlie.” Colby cut in. “Why don’t you go outside and see how Esther is doing?”

Charlie looked at the startled faces of the women and then at Colby.  Colby tried to plead with his eyes.

“I’ll…I’ll go check on Esther.” Charlie hurried outside.

Colby cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about that. Charlie is a little sensitive about Esther’s education.”

“Well, all parents…”

“No.” Colby said firmly. “Look, Charlie’s a genius, child prodigy, and I’m talking big-league, top 100 on earth, maybe top 20 in math. I don’t know how they do it now but with Charlie, they sent him to school where he was skipped five grades and sent to Princeton at thirteen, graduated at sixteen. It makes for smart but not necessarily…”

“Properly emotionally developed?” The counselor volunteered.

Colby shrugged. “Charlie is a great human, a good father and loves Esther more than anything, but he just wants her to be happy. If he gets one whiff that she’s uncomfortable or is being treated like a show pony, he will pull her from school so fast you won’t have a chance to say goodbye. I have no legal parental rights here, so there’s not much I could do to stop it. I know she needs to be challenged but she also needs to be around other kids. However this works, it’s going to have to be handled delicately.”

The women nodded. They might have other children from single gender households in the school but an FBI Agent and a math genius who was obviously still semi-closeted must add a little extra flavor.

“And Esther’s mother?” the teacher asked.

“Left her in a box on our door step with a birth certificate and a cruel note. If she hits town again, Charlie’s brother, my boss, will bust her for child abandonment and endangerment. Esther doesn’t know.”

The women all nodded again.

Colby looked out the door. Charlie was sitting on the bottom of a slide with Esther on his lap. He had his arms wrapped around her with his chin resting on top of her head as Esther read her book. Colby wished he had a camera. The women turned around to see what Colby was looking at. The frozen moment of parental love could melt anyone.

“Mr. Granger,” the counselor finally said. “We are very aware of the emotional and psychological health and wellbeing of our gifted students these days. Esther’s emotional and social development is just as important as her academic one. I’m sure we can work something out. Perhaps half-days here, and reading groups with discussion with older students. She has more advanced language abilities then I’m willing to bet her father had at the same age and an obviously outgoing personality, so her chances of being ignored or bullied should be greatly decreased. We may also be able to find a willing older student to act as sort of a mentor for her, to help her integrate in with older students.”

Colby nodded. “All right. I’m sure I can talk Charlie around to it, it’ll just take a little time. If you can write up something, that would be great, and if it has lots of numbers in it, all the better.”

“Is he really that smart?” The principal asked.  

Colby looked at Charlie who appeared almost a child himself in sneakers with messy hair.

“Yeah, he really is that smart. He can look at a hundred pages of equations at a glance and tell you what’s wrong or what the answer should be. Uncle Larry, of no real relation, is just as smart. Uncle Don, her real uncle, is the FBI’s super agent ‘cause he can look at a crime scene the same way Charlie can look at a wall of equations. Sees things no one else does. Sweet, old, semi-retired Grandpa Alan can still read blueprints the way Esther reads books and tell you a month later if a wing nut was out of place. Then fact that Esther is fluent in two languages and working on another five is impressive but not necessarily extraordinary in that family.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? I’m the guy who stands around and tries to keep all these geniuses from acting like idiots.”


	26. Faculty Mixer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes folks here there be CRACK!FIC and much OOC behavior. I'm not entirely sure what it's doing here but it was too much fun to get rid of. Also nicked a line from Bones

Don opened the front door of his brother’s home and was pounced on, but not by the person he was expecting.

 “Don, Don, tell me we have a case,” Colby pleaded.

 “Um, no. Well, nothing urgent.”

 “Come on, we must have something, anything, parking tickets.  What have we got that’s cold?”

 “Colby, you are going to Charlie’s faculty mixer and you will have a good time.”

 “Don, have you met those people?!”

 “Yep, but I’m not sleeping with one of them.”

 Don gave an evil grin as Colby visibly ground his teeth.

 There was the sound of small running feet and Don got the pouncing he’d been expecting.

 “Uncle Don, Uncle Don, Uncle Don!” Esther gave a flying leap.

 Don caught her, putting her on his hip. “Hello Sweetie.” He gave Esther a kiss on the cheek then looked at the still pained Colby. “Don’t worry. Megan will be there, too. You can cover each other’s back.”

 

Colby quickly sought out Megan in the vast university hall while Charlie went to fetch drinks.

 “What do you think of the party?” she asked.

 Colby looked around. “This isn’t a party; it’s a Star Wars convention.”

 “I wouldn’t worry too much. I watched some guys from Chem dump pure alcohol in the punch.”

 “Drunk geeks. This could be interesting.”

 “I’m just thinking that I could get fifteen pages in any psych journal out of this thing.”

 “Forced socialization of academic sub groups.”

 “Something like that.” Megan quickly took a step behind Colby’s large frame. “Hide me.”

 Colby tried to make himself look bigger while trying to see the threat.

 “Vile little troll from engineering.” Megan finally said. “Been hitting on me all night. Two more glasses of punch and Larry’s going to challenge him to a duel.”

“Really?”

“Two more glasses for me and I’m just going to shoot him.”

“You’re packing?”

“You have to ask?”

Colby looked at Megan’s dress. “Where do you keep it?”

Megan gave a smile and took another sip of punch.

Colby spotted something more urgent than Megan’s troll.  “Excuse me.” Colby said, quickly headed across the room, abandoning Megan.

Charlie was talking with a woman in a dress that Colby thought was cut a little too short and a little too low. Charlie was oblivious but Colby was not up for playing this game. He slipped up to Charlie’s side, hip to hip, and casually draped his arm around the shorter man. Charlie gave him a quick bright smile. The woman scowled and excused herself.

“What was that?” Charlie asked.

“Math groupie.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

There was a crash from the other side of the room. Colby went into a crouch and reached for the shoulder holster that Don had made him leave at home.

“Sir,” Larry’s voice rung across the quickly silent room. “You have insulted my honor, my research, my department, my friend and my wife and I will not stand for it!”

“I accept your challenge.” Came a reedy voice from the floor.

“Charlie!” Larry called out. “South lawn, fetch my weapon.”

Charlie gave Colby a slightly crazed grin he’d never see before. “Don’t worry, Larry’s a master.”

“Master of what?”

 

On the south lawn, the party had regathered. Colby leaned over and whispered in Megan’s ear. “Aren’t you going to stop this?”

“Nope. He said nasty things about Charlie and string theory, so it’s not just about me.”

Off to one side, Larry waved a yard stick in lethal arcs while Charlie, standing as his second, rubbed his shoulders. Charlie pulled a stick of chalk from his pocket and Larry crumbled the chalk and rubbed between his hands. On the other side of the lawn, the engineer was warming up as well.

An elderly gentleman stepped forward. “A matter of honor has arisen between Sirs Fleinhardt and Heathrow. Standard rules. Three touches or first blood.”

‘_First blood?_’ Colby thought. He supposed the thin metal edge set into the wooden sticks could do some damage. But still...

The two men stepped forward as steadily as the copious amounts of alcohol in their system allowed.

The elderly gentlemen said, “Touch and begin.”

The two men touched the ends of their sticks and quickly jumped back, circling.

‘_This is stupid.’_ Colby thought until there was a vicious flurry of clashing yard sticks and a hard crack of wood hitting flesh. The engineer jumped back shaking his hand, a livid red stripe forming across it.

“Awarded. One touch. Fleinhardt.” Physics and by extension Math cheered. The sticks clashed again and the silliness of the situation slipped from Colby’s mind. He realized that this wasn’t classic fencing but if those sticks were replaced with real swords, either man could be lethal. Judging by the expressions on their faces, they would have preferred it that way.

The tip of Heathrow’s yard stick dropped suddenly and Larry yanked his foot back with a fairly foul exclamation.

“Awarded one touch, Heathrow. One all.” Engineering applauded. A moment later a second touch was awarded the same way.

“Move your feet Larry!” Colby found himself shouting out. Larry took a few steps back as if he was regrouping then leapt forward with a mighty swing, cracking the stick across his opponent’s ribs.

“Second touch Fleinhardt. Two all. Next touch to win.”

The two men pulled back, not willing to risk a full charge.

“You can take him Larry.” Colby called out.

Larry took a deep breath. “I’m getting too old for this.” Larry squared his shoulders and strode forward again into battle. Colby was surprised the sticks didn’t break, considering the force behind them.

Larry started strong then began to quickly lose ground, being forced back across the lawn on the defensive, when suddenly he lunged forward, scraping the sharp corner of the metal strip along his opponent’s neck.

“Third touch, blood, and victory. Fleinhardt.”

A great cheer went up from the crowd. Larry dipped Megan into a grand heroic kiss, claiming the right of the victor.

“That’s what you get for messing with a Fleinhardt,” Charlie lightly mocked the loser.

“Oh shut up, you jumped up little f...” Heathrow never got to finish his sentence because suddenly he found a large hand around his throat and his legs dangling a few feet of the ground.

“Now,” Colby said “I’m not sure exactly how you were planning on finishing that sentence, but I’m fairly sure I would have found it offensive. Now, since I’m not an academic like all you fine gentlemen here, I don’t have a handy dueling yardstick, so I would have to voice my displeasure with this.” Colby held up the gun that had been at the small of his back all night. The engineer’s eyes went wide. “And they’d never find what’s left of you.” Colby whispered. “Got it.” The engineer nodded franticly, the need for air becoming a little desperate. Colby dropped Heathrow and holstered his weapon. “You know, Charlie, I thought this party would be boring.”


	27. A Thing

_“She was there for an hour!”  
“I don’t remember your call, alright?”  
“It’s not alright. It was this afternoon!”  
“I’ve been busy!”  
“And I haven’t?!”  
“I’m in the middle of something…”  
“So you forget our daughter? Take some responsibility.”  
“My daughter. She’s mine! Not yours.”  
“Then start fucking acting like it!”  
“What do you care! What do you care about any of this? Why do you even pretend to give a shit?! Why are you even here?”  
“You know what, I don’t know!”  
_

  
“Donald? This is Larry. You…um ...if you’re not busy you might want to get home. Something rather big just happened.”

Don opened the door to the craftsman home and rushed inside.

“Dad?” he called out.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Alan responded.

Don looked into the kitchen and saw Colby sitting on the floor his face pressed to his knees, a half drunk bottle of beer in his hands. His dad was sitting on the other side of the kitchen, just watching.

“I found him like this. Haven’t managed to get a word out of him.” Alan said, worry thick in his voice.

“Larry called me. Said CalSci was just treated to a preview of world war three.”

Colby looked up at Don. Don could honestly say the agent looked better after being shot than he did now. “I broke rule four, Don.”

Don frowned in thought before remembering rule four. _‘Four. Don’t let him hurt you.’ _

“Colby.” Don took a spot on the kitchen floor next to Colby. “I’m sure whatever Charlie said, he didn’t mean.”

“No, he meant it. He meant every word he said. And I meant every word I said. And between me and Charlie... I fucked up.”

Alan shook his head. “Colby, it takes two to fight. Thirty-five years of marriage taught me that.”

Colby closed his eyes. “No. I knew things, I should have said things, other things a long time ago. I knew Charlie would never think of things or say some things. It had to be on me. This is it.” Colby took a sip of beer. “This is the morning after where we slink away and never speak of it again.”

“Bullshit.” Don said. “You are the best thing to happen to Charlie and he knows it. You are Esther’s daddy, and you do not get slink out of here without a fight. Not after everything. It’s been what? Nine years? Ten?”

Colby shrugged and wrapped his arms around his knees, threatening tears in his eyes making him look like nothing more than a distraught child.

“This can be fixed.” Alan offered. “What ever happened, whatever was said, it can’t be taken back but it can be forgiven, that’s what family is.”

“But I’m not family.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Alan scolded. “Of course you are.”

“I’m not Esther’s daddy, not legally, not officially. I’m not Charlie’s anything, not really, never have been.”

“Well, maybe that should change.” Don offered gently.

Colby gave a quick choking sob before pulling himself back together. He looked at Don and Alan, obviously surprised at their concern.

“Maybe it is time for things to change,” Alan said, echoing Don sentiments.

Colby nodded. “I can fix this,” he whispered. He took a deep breath “I can fix this. I can fix this.” Colby got up and headed to the door.

“Where are you going?” Alan asked.

“I need to get some stuff. I need to arrange some stuff.”

“Fine, Don will drive you.”

“I’m not drunk, Alan. I’ve had half a beer.”

“Doesn’t matter. In your state you shouldn’t be on the road.”

Colby looked to Don who nodded that he was going to back up his dad on this one. “Ok. But I’m not coming back. Not tonight. I’ll get a motel room but…just not tonight, ok. I can fix this but…”

“We get it.” Don said. “Come on. Let’s get you whatever you need to fix this.”

~

Colby tried to hold his head up as he walked down the halls of CalSci. He had always stuck out here, jock and G-man, but the looks he was getting now made him feel like he was in rival gang territory. A few students snickered. The staff he passed mainly gave him looks both dirty and dismissive as if he had somehow soiled one of their own. He had worked with a guy once who possessed a firm belief in the evil eye. Colby was starting to agree.

He turned the corner to Charlie’s hall when he ran, quite literally, into Larry Fleinhardt. He quickly picked the physicist up and brushed him off.

“Sorry, Larry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Well, I’m sure you had things on your mind.”

“Is…is Charlie in his office?”

“He’s hardly been anywhere else the last two days.”

“Is he..?”

“Okay?  No. He’s not. At least no more than you by the looks of things.”

Colby realized he must look like hell after not sleeping in the same suit for three days. “I think I can fix things.”

“Really. Well, I wish you luck.” Larry said slightly tersely.

“I’m sorry, Larry. I know you care about him. I never meant…”

Larry cut him off with a quick wave of the hand. “Charles needs whomever he’s with to keep him truly balanced.  He has to be allowed to be himself while being protected from himself. That is something I was never able to provide, neither was Amita or various others in between.”

“I’ll try, I’ll…” Some part of Colby’s brain listened to Larry’s last sentence more closely and froze. “You..?” he stuttered out.

“A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. A youthful vulgarity.”

Colby’s brain hurt trying to work out the mental image. He was sure he must have done his fish impression.  “Later, you and I are going to talk.”

“Of course, Agent Granger. Now go forth and try to win the hand of the fair Charles Eppes, but remember you can not change a man such as him, only run along in his wake, trying to be worthy.”

“I’m really screwed, aren’t I?”

“Possibly, yes.”

Colby felt for the box in his coat to make sure it was still there. “You’re not helping.”

“It’s only my job to help my students. Everyone else is on their own. Good luck.” Larry gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked on though Colby was sure the little man was going to double back and press his ear to the door.

Colby took a deep breath and knocked on Charlie’s door.

“What!?” Came the harsh shout from the other side. Colby gently opened the door and stepped in.

The place looked like a bomb had hit it. Strange, harsh equations were on every surface, paper littered the floor, stacks of books had been knocked over and left there. Charlie’s assistant was nowhere in sight but her desk was the only place clear of debris.

“Charlie?” Colby said gently.

Charlie whirled around from his place at the blackboard.  “Oh,” Charlie said like he was some kind of curiosity.

“Charlie,” he tried again.

Charlie turned his back and went back to the blackboard.

“Damn you,” Colby whispered harshly.

Charlie looked at him. “What?”

“Damn you. Damn what you’re doing to me.” Colby felt so tired all of a sudden, all of his carefully rehearsed words slipping from his mind. Colby took a deep breath. “I’m going to say it because you can’t. I love you, Charlie Eppes. Somewhere between drunken nights, and hurried lunches, and impossible cases I learned to love you and I will be damned if I’m going to let you just push me out of your life, because you don’t think you mean anything to me, and I’ll be damned if I let you take Esther out of my life because I love her as much as I love you, and the very thought of the bleak, well-planned future my life would be without you makes me want to die.”

Charlie dropped his chalk. It landed with an impossibly loud clink. Charlie blinked at him a few times, his expression flickering. “Esther’s been asking when you’re coming home.”

“I don’t know. Am I coming home?”

“Colby,” Charlie sighed desperately, sounding exhausted “I can’t keep going like this. This thing we don’t have the words to talk about.”

“I know. Things need to change. Big things. We need new words.”

“I’m not good with words.”

“I know.” Colby closed his eyes and lowered his head. He had other things he wanted to say but they weren’t coming. Not yet. He heard Charlie come closer then felt arms wrap around him and a head lay on his chest. He wrapped his arms around Charlie and stood there listening to the clock tick by the seconds. He wanted to sleep just standing right there, his arms around Charlie. He hadn’t slept the last two nights.  Instead, he’d lay awake, reaching out for the warm presence of another body that wasn’t there. He finally, gently, pushed Charlie away and fished a piece of paper out of his pocket. He handed it to Charlie.

“What is it?” Charlie asked.

“New words. See, if I sign that piece of paper, then you sign it, and a judge down at County signs it, and a couple of our friends sign it, then we have words better than ‘thing’ for this.”

“Which words?”

“Marriage, husband, life, legality.”

Charlie gave his head a quick shake. “Your career..?”

“Don’t care. I don’t want a big desk in DC any more than you want to be seated behind a dean’s desk somewhere.”

Charlie swallowed hard looking at the piece of paper. “Ok. Those...those are good words. I like those words. They sound like they fit.”

Colby felt some of his exhaustion lift and he pulled out another piece of paper. “There’s also this, if you’ll let me.”

“What does it say?”

“Well, it’s really just the first in a lot of paper but…um…at the end it should say that I can be Esther’s father. If you’ll let me?”

“You really want that?”

“Yeah.”

Charlie nodded again and folded the pieces of papers and put them in his own pocket. “I’m sorry, Colby.”

Colby’s heart sank, Charlie was refusing him.

But Charlie continued, “I’m sorry I said the things I did. They were never true, I never meant, I never meant to hurt you, to make you feel...” Charlie petered off, and Colby could almost see the words jumbling up in his head. Charlie probably wished he had a formula that would just explain everything.  Even if he did have one Colby knew he couldn’t read it.  Charlie took a deep breath and his lips slowly formed the words.  “I love you, too.”

Colby let out the breath he’d been holding. It came out as a gasping sob. He tried to burn the expression on Charlie’s face into his memory, never wanting this moment to slip away.

“Ok?” Charlie asked and it was Colby’s turn to nod dumbly. Charlie hugged him again. Colby wanted a kiss but at the same time he felt like that might break him. The inside of his head felt like glass and the smallest of nudges could kill him.

Eventually, Colby remembered something that had originally been so critical to his plan. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a light blue box. “This is for you.”

Charlie took the box with a puzzled look. Inside he found the latest accessory for the busy studio executive or absent minded professor. It was a rounded silver box about the size of a pocket watch with a screen on one side. Charlie had never seen one and gave Colby a questioning look.

“It’s a reminder box.” Colby explained. “All the big studio execs have them. Your schedule is in a central system, all your classes and appointments and stuff and it beeps or whatever to remind you, but you don’t have to update it yourself. Your assistant can, or whoever has the password so if your class schedule changes or there’s an emergency meeting you don’t have to remember.  It runs on kinetic energy so it doesn’t need recharging.” It was the electronic gizmo of the year, anyone who was anyone had one, the big difference was that Colby had dipped into his State Department spy snafu hush-up money and gotten this one at Tiffany’s and had the back engraved. Charlie flipped it over.

“…assuming a linear definition of time.” Charlie read off the back.

The sales girl had given Colby a weird look. She was probably used to taking orders for ‘with love always’ and other such sweetness. Charlie gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Dad will want to do a whole big thing,” Charlie warned.

“I say we grab Megan, Larry, Esther, hit the court house, and tell everyone after the fact.”

Charlie nodded. “Good idea.”

Colby smiled and looked at Charlie. “You know you have to marry me, anyways.”

“Why?”

“I gave you a six digit prime.”


	28. Lost Summer

As far as Colby could tell, the Eppes had never thrown out anything, as the boxes stacked into the rafters attested to.

 “What are we looking for again?” Colby asked

 “Blueprints for the South Bayview projects,” Alan answered. “I advised against the builder twenty years ago. Now the place is a crumbling toxic hell hole, the tenants are suing, and the city has conveniently and happily lost the original prints.”

 “Are they lost ‘cause you’ve got them?”

 “You bet. That project was dirty stem to stern. I felt this mess coming ages ago. Try that box.”

 Colby pulled down another box that seemed heavy for its size and opened it. It felt like archeology. The first layer was old receipts, then some finger paintings, the colors long faded, then pay dirt. _Baby photos!_ Colby grinned and dug through the thick pile until he found a little boy with a plastic six shooter and curly hair.

 “Alan, is this Don?” He held up the photo.

 “Oh God, put that down.  He’d kill if those ever saw the light of day.”

 Colby pulled out another photo of a toddler holding a ‘no nukes’ sign. Colby slipped that into a pocket for future black mail usage. At the bottom, Colby picked a black and white photo that for a moment he thought it was Charlie on a really bad hair day. He realized it had to be Alan but he had no idea who the tall lanky guy with the slightly silly smile was. “Hey Alan, great hair.”

 Alan looked up at the photo, flushed, then quickly looked away. “Jewfro. Only achievable with the right combination of humidity and lack of hygiene. Very popular. Drove the girls wild.”

 “Who’s the guy?”

 “Ah...” Alan stuttered for a split second. “McKinney, Donald McKinney. Mad Scottish Poet I met hiking in Spain.”

 “Really?” Colby picked up another photo of the two men. “You two hang out a lot?”

 “Well, we got stuck in this freak monsoon in the mountains. Spent three days in a cave living off cheep wine and salty cheese. Ah…we hiked around for a couple months after that since we were heading the same direction. Parted company around Northern Italy, I think.”

'_Oh Alan.’ _Colby thought _'If I weren’t FBI you might have gotten away with that.'_ Colby pulled out about a dozen photos of the two men. Reasonably innocent on the surface, yet it could be argued that their hips met a little too closely and perhaps they turned towards each other just a hair.

 “I met Margaret after that trip you know,” Alan continued. “Headed home, got a job, met her practically the first day. Next thing you know, marriage, house, Don’s on the way.”

 '_Of course,' _Colby thought 'a_nd Donald the mad Scottish poet is just a memory. Donald, Donald, Don. Oh God!'_

 “You ever write him?” Colby asked gently.

 Alan gave him a hard look and neither man was kidding each other anymore. “And say what? _‘Remember me? We had a two month drunken fling forty years ago. I would have written but the whole wife and kids thing got in the way._’”

 “Well, I’d phrase it better.”

 “Colby, the past is dead and buried and it wasn’t anything to discuss at the time. You think you and Charlie have got problems? What we were doing was _illegal_ half the time. The other half it was a medical condition to be cured in nasty ways. It would have been easier to come home with a case of syphilis than a six foot Scotsmen in tow.”

 “Still,” Colby held out the photos. “Looks like it was a good summer.”

 ~

 Alan willed his hands not to shake as he opened the box, a Royal Post seal glaring at him brightly. The tape split easily under the kitchen knife and he picked up the hand-written letter folded neatly on top.

>    
> _Dear Alan,_

  


> _My apologies for the delay in writing back. I moved to the south coast a few years ago. Nice thing about small towns though, they’ll forward your mail until doomsday. It was a lovely surprise to get your letter. My kids keep nagging me to get a computer so they can email me. Why not drop it in the post I say. There’s a greater civility to it. Or perhaps I’m just old._

> _I thought you might be writing for your Dead t-shirt back. I found it in the bottom of my rucksack when I got back to the island. I’ve been packing it around all these years, always meaning to send it back to you. It’s probably worth a pretty penny by now. ‘Vintage’ I think the kids call it._

   
Alan reached into the box and pulled out a very old Grateful Dead T-Shirt. He was fairly sure he could still smell the cheep Italian hash on it.

>    
> _‘Also, do you remember that mad Frenchman with the new fangled instant camera? Well, you’ll never believe what I found.’ _

   
Alan looked into the box again. At the bottom was a faded Polaroid that was truly incriminating. Donald had a sheet wrapped around him in a sort of toga/kilt thing and Alan was in short shorts, sandals and not much else, plus holding a very suspicious looking cigarette. Though you couldn’t see Donald’s hands it was easy to guess where they somewhere inappropriate on Alan’s body. Alan quickly looked around and slipped the photo into his shirt pocket.

>    
> _‘Truth be told I have no recollection of that night, though considering the number of empties in the photo, I’m not surprised. _

> _It’s raining here in Dorset right now. The locals are complaining but it’s practically tropical compared to the North Sea winds blowing down off the artic. I’ve got a little cottage down here with a kitchen garden and a few chickens. The old lady kicked my sorry arse to the curb as soon as the kids were grown, so I’ve been fending for myself for a while now. _

> _I have to confess I’ve been thinking of you lately, which made your letter that much nicer. Remember our Spanish cave? It had a jasmine plant growing halfway over the front and when the rain would let up the smell would fill the air. We had no such thing in the Hebrides, too cold for such an exotic beast, but a former occupant of my cottage was ambitious and for a week each summer I have a jasmine bush in bloom. The first time I woke to that smell the memories hit me like a brick up the side of the head. I spent the week craving salty cheese, among other things. _

> _I don’t know if you travel much anymore. I suppose you’re as old as I am for we can never really freeze people the way we can in our memories, but should you make it to the islands, come to Dorset and I’ll show your around. Come in summer when the jasmine is blooming._

> _Yours in memory, _

  


> _Donald McKinney _

   
“Dad? What’s wrong?”

 Alan’s head shot up to find Charlie and Colby standing in the doorway. “What?”

 “You’re crying?”

 Alan’s hand went to his face to find his eyes and cheeks wet. “It’s nothing.”

 “Dad?”

 Alan forced a smile. “Just milk that spilled long before you were born.” Alan packed up the box quickly and headed to his room. He gave his son a quick kiss and Colby a pat on the cheek as he left. Colby’s eye’s quickly flickered down to the box and he gave a slight smile.

 “What was that about?” Charlie asked.

 Colby, just shrugged.


	29. Pictures in a Wallet

Colby looked at the kid in the passenger seat of his car and felt old. Agent Philip Matheson looked twelve to Colby, and despite a perfect regulation haircut and suit, Colby had to resist the urge to pull out Esther's old safety seat. They pulled up across from a generic looking house and waved off the previous arrest team. The young agent was practically vibrating with excitement. Colby cursed David, his promotion and transfer for leaving him with Skipper here, so fresh from the academy that his piss was probably green.

"Look it," Colby said, "as long as there are six kids in the house, we will not be kicking the door in. The suspect will leave the house, then we will tail him to a better location and call for backup. Got it?"

"Right. Got it," the kid replied with so much youthful energy it made Colby's teeth ache.

"Good. I'm going to sleep. Wake me if anything happens."

"You're going to what?"

"I've got a kid and a mathematician with the flu at home. They didn't sleep, so I didn't sleep. They are not here, so I am going to sleep."

"Shouldn't we..?"

"No. You are junior agent so you watch the boring criminals. I am old cranky senior agent, so I sleep." Colby pulled the backup gun from the small of his back and put it in the cup holder then chucked his wallet on the dash board. Once comfortable, he closed his eyes and passed out.

 

Agent Matheson quickly got bored watching the birds peck about the suspect lawn and listening to his senior agent snore. He studied Agent Granger for a bit. He'd heard odd and occasionally unpleasant rumors when he got to LA and meeting Charlie Eppes had confirmed a few. Of course, watching Charlie pluck a killer from a list of equations had seemed more of a parlor trick than investigative work but no one argued with him.

As for the other rumors, Professor Eppes and Agent Granger hadn't made out passionately in the middle of the war room, but there were easy smiles and discussion of babysitting schedules on the way out the door that the rest of the team seemed oblivious to or perhaps just to accustomed to warrant comment. Plus the matching plain gold bands had been a bit of a giveaway.

Agent Matheson looked at the still house again, then carefully lifted the discarded wallet from the dashboard, keeping one eye on Agent Granger and one on the house. He quickly flipped open the wallet. It had the usual. A bit of cash, ATM card, ID, but unlike Philip's wallet all the little picture sheets were full. The first one was a group shot. It looked like it has been shrunk down on a computer, taken at some holiday. Professor Eppes was center holding what he guessed was a baby. Agent Granger was next to him with Agent Eppes and an older gentleman, their father presumably. Philip squinted and was fairly sure the only woman in the picture was Agent Fleinhardt, her arm around a shorter man who looked a little confused and quite a few years older than her. He had been told her husband was some kind of scientist and an astronaut but he had thought the man for her would be a scientist more in the Indiana Jones/Buzz Aldrin vein. Of course it was hard to think of these three hard-ass agents in this warm family setting at all.

Matheson shot a quick look at the house. Not even the birds had moved. He flipped through the next few pictures. A few were of Agent Granger and Professor Eppes but mostly they were photos of a little girl with brown curly hair, maybe seven or eight. She had a steel look in her eyes that put him in mind of his boss.

"She's cute, isn't she?"

Matheson's head snapped up to find Agent Granger looking at him very much awake. "I...uh...um." The young agent stuttered putting the wallet quickly back on the dash.

Hiding a smile at the agent's terrified face, Colby picked the wallet back up and looked at the last picture. "She looks a lot like her daddy."

"Uh."

"She's got a mean streak, though. Must get it from her mother."

"Really?" Matheson squeaked.

"There's a little boy at school who likes her, keeps pulling her hair. She grabs him, twists his arm behind his back. Makes him scream uncle. They do this daily."

"They'll probably get married."

Colby only gave a hum and looked at the picture of him and Charlie, and their family, taken at Megan's wedding about a million years ago. He and Charlie were both drunk on Champagne, leaning easily against each other, ties undone. Colby looked at the young agent who was waiting for a telling off except Colby could feel the flu creeping in. Knowing it would lay him out in a couple of days, he just didn't feel up to doing it.

"You don't get it do you?" he asked instead.

"I...uh."

"Most of them don't. Hell, I don't. It's like the math. You don't believe it, so you go nuts banging your head against the wall trying to understand it, then after watching it work time and time again, you just accept that it works, that 2+2 does equal 4 and there's nothing wrong with that." Colby looked at the very confused agent and sighed, "Go through my stuff again and I'll break your thumbs." With that, Colby closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.


	30. Heart Attack

_“That was great. Alan.”  
“Thanks. Ooh.”  
“You ok, dad?”  
“I’m fine. Too many chilies.”  
“Let me get those plates.”  
“No I got ‘em.”  
*crash*  
“Dad?”  
“Dad!”  
“Alan!”_

“Your father’s heart is fine. The blockage was in one of the outlaying arteries and for a man his age, it was minor. We’ve seen far worse.”

“So what are you going to do? I mean you’re going to do something right?” Don asked.

“We’ll schedule him for surgery.”

“Heart surgery?” Charlie asked in a panic.

“No, brain surgery.” Don snapped.

“Very noninvasive heart surgery.” The doctor said calmly. “The surgeon will make a small incision about two inches long, we’ll feed in a camera with a laser attachment, we’ll take a look around. Anything we don’t like we’ll zap and suction away. It’s like Star Trek. Very low risk of infection, very low risk of complications, he’ll be out by the end of the week. You have nothing to worry about.”

“What are the odds of complications?” Charlie asked.

“Don’t.” Don said quickly.

“Well, the chances…”

“Don’t. Seriously, doc. He’s a math genius. Give him numbers and he’ll go into a Rainman routine.”

“Don,” Charlie complained.

“When we were kids, we got a puppy. He spent the first week calculating the odds of it getting hit by a car.

“It did get hit by a car!”

“A decade latter when you were in grad school.”

“Your father’s chances are very good.” The doctor said cutting off the brother’s fight. “He’s generally healthy, active, and he has family who obviously cares. That will do far more for his chances that modern medicine ever will.”

  
~

  
Colby held a straw to Alan’s lips. Alan took a small sip of water, wincing as it slid down his raw throat.

“They had you intubated for a while,” Colby explained. “Scrapes up the throat.”

“I was wondering.” Alan looked around the hospital room. “Where are the boys?”

“With the doctor, talking behind your back.”

“Esther?”

“With Megan and Larry.”

“She ok?”

“Holding on. She’s tough.”

Alan closed his eyes and shook his head. “I feel like a fool.”

“Well, it’s hardly something you could see coming.” Colby replied.

“No, I felt off all day.”

“Too may fried egg sandwiches?”

“They’re an acquired taste,” Alan said with a smile.

“Sure. Among British bachelors.”

“Mad Scottish poets.”

Colby gave an understanding smile.

Alan rubbed at his chest a little. “I get why my chest hurts. Why do my ribs hurt?”

“Um…Don cracked a few doing chest compressions.”

Alan’s face fell, the reality of the situation crashing down. “This was too close, Colby.”

“You’re fine. You were out for like a minute.”

“No. it was too close. There are things I haven’t said. Don, Charlie, there’s things I haven’t taught them yet. Important things.”

“You’ll have plenty of time, Alan.” Colby said trying to sound reassuring.

“I can’t think of leaving my boys yet.”

“You’ve been a good father, they’re good men. Both of them and you’re not going anywhere any time soon.”

Alan sighed and reached for the cup again which Colby held to his lips. “You’re a good man, Colby. I’m glad you’re here.”

Colby gave a slight smile. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Did your father ever give you his blessings? Does your family know you’re a good man?”

Colby didn’t want to say that his brothers haven’t spoken to him in over a decade. “He…uh. Well we don’t…”

Alan shook his head. “That’s not good. The blessing is important. Old magic. Keeps things working.”

Colby didn’t know what to say so busied himself with the water jug.

“Come here.” Alan waved him to the bed side. “Kneel.”

Colby knelt by the side of the bed and lowered his head. He felt Alan’s warm hand rest on his head with such care and intent that he got it. This touch was all the things unsaid, it was the words he’d wished his own father had said, the feeling the hell-fire preacher had always said they should have. This was the thing that let Don and Charlie have screaming fits at each other yet forgive and carry on. He took a deep breath and for a moment though he actually felt his own soul, contrite, passive, and blessed.

  
Don stopped the doctor’s hand as it reached for the door knob. “Wait.”

Don gestured to Charlie to look through the window of the room. They could see Colby’s eyes squeezed shut with heavy emotion. Don took a look at his brother. Charlie had an expression Don had never seen. It was hard to describe. It was of complete calm and yet something more. Alan’s hand slipped from Colby’s head to his face. Words that couldn’t be heard passed between the two men and Colby stood.

Don gave a nod to the doctor who pushed open the door. “Good morning Mr. Eppes,” he said brightly. “How’s that ticker of yours doing today?”

Don watched as Colby quickly went to Charlie’s side and took his hand giving it a squeeze. His dad looked past the doctor to his sons, all three of them, and smiled.

Don gave his father a nod and a smile. _‘This is right’._


	31. Don's Surprise

Don looked at the little stick. “Um. What does the little plus mean?”

“What do you think it means, Don?” Becca snapped.

“Oh.” Don’s brain froze. He refused to faint but he couldn’t think of how else he was supposed to react. He sat down.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

“Oh god.” Don squeaked out.

“You know what, never mind, forget it.”

Don’s legs found their strength again as he jumped up. “What? No. I’m sorry, love. Wait. Just...I need to think.” Don put his arms around Rebecca and held her. He couldn’t handle it if she walked out before he’d had time to think. The seconds ticked by.

“Uh...Don...kinda need to breath here.”

Don let go and looked at the wonderful woman who’d been more or less putting up with his shit for several years now. “Do you want to keep it?” Don asked.

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean you...” Becca never finished her sentence.

“Marry me.” Don blurted out.

Becca sighed. “I’m not marrying you ‘cause I’m pregnant Don.”

“No! No. I know. Wait!”

Becca watched as Don ran to the door and rummaged around in a coat pocket. He came running back holding a box of duck egg blue. He held it out like a little boy showing off a frog. Becca just looked at him. Don looked around then dropped to both knees.

“What’s in the box?”

“It’s…uh…it’s a ring. I was...I was going to try and give it to you last night, then I was late and you were mad and I was mad and the food was bad.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah...then you were sick.” Don opened the box. Inside was a Tiffany solitare. He’d saved up a years worth of beer money and mended old suits instead of getting a new one.

“What were you going to say last night?” Becca asked softly.

Don took a deep breath. “Becca, you have become the great constant in my life. Even when you’re screaming mad at me for being an idiot and trying to push you away you’re there, you’re always there, a creature of such beauty and passion and love and it would be the biggest mistake of my life not to try to marry you. I can’t see the future and I know the odds are against us but I can not begin to contemplate the thought of a future without you. So would you be willing to do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Don had spent weeks working on that short speech. He’d even asked Colby and Larry how they’d proposed then wished he’d hadn’t.

“Don. I’m going to have a baby. This wouldn’t be the marriage you’ve planned.”

Don lowered his head. “Ok. I’m improvising now.” Don took a deep breath “I don’t know what kind of father I’ll be. Probably the kind the kid talks to a therapist about when they’re thirty, but I can think of no one more suited to be a mother and I can think of no one I’d rather have bear my child. I know I’ve always been bad with change but I can … I can take the desk promotion, and be home by five and make sure to make piano recitals and parent-teacher conferences and I’ll do whatever I need to do to make this right and be a good husband and father for you and the baby.”

Becca looked down at Don and tried not to cry. It was nearly as sweet as his ‘buyer beware’ speech on their third date. So far she’d dealt with everything he’d listed that night and for the most part been happy. She knelt down in front of Don and took the ring from the box.

“Don’t take the desk job. You’d go insane. You have to be out on the street, keeping it safe for your child. New rule though. You get shot and I’ll kick your ass.” Becca slipped the ring on her finger, the white gold quickly warming to match her hands. Don was doing his fish impression and looked like he might pass out. “That was a ‘yes’ by the way.” Don nodded his head franticly then threw his arms around her. Becca took a closer look at the ring. “Is this really Tiffany’s?”

“I have to keep up with Colby. I don’t know what they teach those farm boys but I’m always looking like a schmo next to him.”

Becca giggled feeling a little light headed. Colby was prone to the grand gesture when he could manage it. “Do you think your family will mind?”

Don looked at her. “Are you nuts? They love you. If it came to you or me, they’d probably take you. My dad loves you, my brother loves you, my brother-in-law loves you, my niece loves you. There will be the biggest celebration out of this.”

Don froze suddenly thinking of wedding plans. Larry’s wedding had nearly killed them, and dad had felt cheated when Charlie and Colby had simply vanished for a day and showed up back home with wedding rings on. But a wedding, plus baby, plus moving in together...

Becca read a look of panic in Don’s eyes. “What to run off to Vegas for a weekend?”

“Oh god, yes.” Don kissed her passionately. “This is why I love you. You can practically read my mind.”

“I can also cook.”

Don kissed her again. _‘Oh.’_ Don thought. _‘This is so good.’_


	32. Thanksgiving

 Colby pushed open the door with his hip, arms loaded down with bags, Megan right behind.

 “Alan, I swear to god this cobbler better be worth it. I had to pull my gun to get these apples.”

 “You did not.” Megan scolded.

 “Megan flashed a guy to get the bake tins.” Colby dropped the bags on the already bulging kitchen counter. 

 “Colby, there’s someone in the living room to see you.” Alan said, not looking up from a pie crust. Colby gave him curious look but Alan gave no hint.

 Colby wandered into the living room. The first person he saw was Charlie, the second was Esther, the third was his mother.

 “Mom?!”

 “Colby dear, come in, sit down, Charles and I were just having a lovely chat.”

 Colby felt his brain begin to melt. “What are you doing here?”

 Emily Granger gave her son a pinched looked that Colby knew meant that he was swimming towards hot water.  “Can’t a mother see her son?”

 “Yes. Of course. Hi.” Colby gave his mother a hug and sat down. “Um...mom...it’s the day before thanksgiving. What are you doing in LA?”

 “Well it’s been unpleasantly cold this winter so your second cousin Margie has loaned me the beach place in Malibu.”

 “What about the rest of the family?”

 “Back in Idaho I presume. I really wouldn’t know.”

 A weird little part of Colby’s world vision curled up and died. “You’ve left home!”

 “Don’t be a drama queen, dear, I’m just taking a break somewhere warm and if I did not feel inclined to tell your siblings the exact location of my whereabouts, well, that’s my business.”

 Megan had walked in just in time hear Colby called a drama queen by his own mother and decided she liked the woman.

 “Good idea.” Megan said. “Alan’s pouring drinks. Who wants what?”

 Colby was still in shock a half hour later when his mother was sipping a nice merlot and actually laughed at Charles circle, circle, tangent joke.

 “Oh, I’ll have to tell that one to Katie.”

 “Wait.” Colby cut in. “You got that joke? Nobody gets that joke.”

 “Just because you didn’t pay attention in trigonometry, Colby Granger, doesn’t mean no one else did.”

 “I never took trigonometry.”

 “Well, I did and I rather enjoyed it.”

 Colby was sure one of his eyes was twitching and he would place money that something in his brain just popped. “Mom?” He squeaked out. “Can we talk?” He made gestures towards the other room.

 Emily put down her wine and walked proudly to the other room, Colby slinking behind.

 Esther leaned forward. “Last time dad had that look was the first time he heard me cuss.”

 “I know.” Megan said, “It’s the ‘_I think I’m having a stroke_’ look.”

 In the dining room, Emily Granger faced her son. “What did you want to discuss?” She said sternly.

 “What’s going on, mom?”

 “I told you, I...”

 “No. What’s really going on?”

 Emily gave her son a hard look.

 Colby continued, “Ok. Look at this from my perspective. Since before I can remember, you have spent the day before any Thanksgiving in the kitchen up to your elbows in giblets surrounded by enough food to feed the Army of the Potomac. The next day the whole family shows up, watches the game, and eats themselves into a coma and you run the whole show with military efficiency, and then do it again a month later for Christmas. You don’t sit in a California living room, sipping organic merlot, with your somewhat estranged son, trading math jokes with his _husband_.”

 Emily sighed and for the first time in Colby’s eyes, she looked her age.  “I’m tired and I’m done.” She said firmly. “I was picking out turkeys a week ago and saw them all just laying out there and decided that I was done. I wanted something different and someplace warm. I tried to talk the whole family into Fiji or something, something different but your brothers didn’t want to risk missing the game. Your sister and sister-in-laws all offered to cook dinner but it would just be the same. Same song, second verse. Then I remembered I had that standing offer from Cousin Margie and I thought a turkey sandwich on a Californian beach sounded like a perfectly good Thanksgiving to me.”

 Colby looked at the taking no shit look in his mother’s eyes and gave her a hug realizing for the first time where his own rebellious nature may have sprung from. “Do you really think Alan’s going to let you get away with a turkey sandwich on the beach? He’s been prepping for weeks. We have enough food to feed half the city. He’s been drawing up schematics trying to figure out how it’s all going to fit on the table. I’m sure I caught him weight testing it last week.”

 “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

 “Don’t be silly mom. You’re family.”

 ~

 Emily Granger surveyed the table and was impressed. She’d seen this happen to widowers before. Either they lived off ham sandwiches ‘till they got another wife or they took up watching Food TV and a few years later their cakes were beating out the ladies at the county fair. Strangely enough, those men seemed to get remarried a lot faster than the ones eating the ham sandwiches.

 

 At the other end of the table, Alan Eppes stood and cast his eyes over the assemblage. At twelve people, it was the biggest thanksgiving to date. A long cry from the years of just him, Charlie, Don and Larry. Now there were husbands, wives, children, plus Agent Philip Matheson had been ordered along after making reference to turkey pizza, as had Niki Pepin, Larry’s new graduate assistant, who couldn’t arrange travel back to Boston. Alan thought it was cute the two already giving shy smiles at each other across the table. Geeks and G-Men, it was becoming a bit of a trend. And there was Emily Granger, who decided on a whim to chuck the good house wife image and have an adventure. In the other room, he could already see the first candle on the menorah burning low. It would be out by the time they finished.

 “Tonight, we give thanks.” He began. “We thank our gods, our universe, our family, our friends. We give thanks for our health, our fortune, and each other. Our friends and family gathered here tonight, for what is health and fortune without those we love to share it with? Share our triumphs, our tragedies. Look around and know that this is good. This is life as it should be. This is our blessing and for this we give thanks.”

 

~

 

Emily didn’t think she’d move ever again. The party had retreated to the living room where most of the adults sat with glazed looks on their faces. The food had been divine. She always knew a lot of the winter produce was trucked in from California but she was now sure they were keeping the best for themselves. She could have gorged on the tomato and cucumber salad alone. Colby sat next to her, gently sipping a glass of fizzy water. She smiled at her son.

 “You know you’re getting old when a pound of turkey on the stomach doesn’t sit the way it used to.” She teased.

 “I’m just glad the criminal element of the city has decided to refrain from anything requiring federal intervention tonight.”

 On the other side of the room Don raised a glass in agreement. “I don’t think I can remember where my gun is.”

 From the kitchen there was a high squeal and the sound of running feet. A moment later Esther sprinted past, followed by Charlie waving a wet dishrag.

 “How can those two have energy?” Emily asked in wonder.

 Colby gave a bit of a laugh. “Night owls, both of them, I don’t think Esther’s been to sleep before midnight in her life.” Emily looked hard at her son.  She had always been a firm believer in bed time.  Midnight was not an option. “Charlie’s no better.” He defended. “When Esther was little, I used to get up at three in the morning and wander out to the garage and there Charlie would be at his blackboards, working on something beyond us mere mortals, and Esther would be curled up on the couch with a book that should have been too hard for her. They’d just be there together, middle of the night, wide awake.”

 Emily could picture the scene, father and daughter, in their own worlds but easy in the same space. It didn’t take much time around Esther to understand how Colby could commit to another man’s child. She was brilliance, sweetness, and light. Though she wondered a bit about the girl’s mother. When Larry had mentioned some book reviewer Esther disagreed with Emily saw a quick flash of something hard and cold. Something surely not present in her father. Colby had sent her a portrait of the three of them when the adoption papers had gone through. It was tucked away in a drawer but she was now thinking it deserved a frame and a place on the wall with all the other pictures of family and grandchildren and if her other children, or friends, or the town had problems with it … well, they could just deal.

 “I’m glad you’re here. Mom.” Colby said, the copious amounts of turkey giving him a mellow tone.

 “So am I, you have a good life here, good family, good people.”

 Colby nodded. “Yeah. They take a little getting used to but this is good.”


	33. A Direct Threat

Megan hurried down the school hall looking over her shoulder every few steps. She peered through the thin window of the classroom door before opening it. Megan walked straight to the teacher

 “Agent Fleinhardt, FBI.” She flashed her ID. “I need Miss Eppes to come with me.”

 Esther jumped up for her desk. “Aunt Megan what’s wrong?”

 “Archimedes,” Megan replied.

 Esther’s face went hard and she quickly gathered her books.

 “This is very irregular,” the teacher protested.

 “Give this note to your principal immediately. If anyone suspicious approaches the area, contact the police immediately and keep the students inside.”

 Esther was at Megan’s side as they hurried back down the hall.

 “Turn on your phone.”

 Esther clicked on her phone and it rang almost instantly. “Dad?”

 “Esther, honey, are you ok?”  Colby asked.

 “I’m fine. I’m with Aunt Megan.”

 “Good.  Stay with her.”

 “What’s going on? Where are you?”

 “Not on an unsecured line. Megan will explain. I love you.”

 “I love you too, dad.” The line cut off. “What’s going on?”

 They had reached the front of the school and Megan motioned her down. Esther dropped into a crouch her heart racing. An unmarked van sat in the school’s loading zone. The side door opened and a hand reached out and made a complicated gesture.

 “Move.” Esther and Megan ran to the van, keeping low. Esther jumped in the back to find her Uncle Larry in a bullet proof vest, nervously holding a gun.

 “Put on a vest.” Megan ordered. “And take the gun off Larry.” Esther tossed a vest over her head and took the gun with far more ease than Larry had handled it. Dad had insisted on FBI daughter right-of-passage on the gun range, and while Esther was about as comfortable with guns as her other dad, she knew she was head and shoulders above Uncle Larry.

 “Ok. What’s going on?” The van was headed east.

 “There’s been a direct and specific threat.”

 “Against me?!” Esther squeaked.

 “Against everyone. We found surveillance photos of the entire family. You, Don, Alan, Becca, Aaron, me, Larry.”

 “Are we going to a safe house?”

 “Yes, but we have evidence of an internal mole.”

 “Oh, god.”

 “So this is just family, understand?”

 “Yes.” Esther said coldly. She’d gone from fear to anger very quickly.

 ‘_How dare they!’ _She thought not even knowing who they were. ‘_How dare they threaten my family!_’ Esther felt the gun still heavy in her hands. For the first time in her life, she wanted to use it. Instead, she made Uncle Larry drill her on stars in various constellations as they drove into the hills out of town.

 The safe house was little more than a shack with a couple of old-style solar panels. Inside they found Agent Philip Matheson setting up secure surveillance and communications equipment. Esther gripped the gun a little tighter. No one had thought to take it off her. “I thought you said no FBI?”

 “I was also on the threat list.” Matheson said. “They’re going for anyone close to Agent Granger and your uncle.”

 “Well, welcome to the family.” Esther said sarcastically. There was a complicated knock at the door. Megan approached it gun drawn, Matheson covering. Don rushed in dragging Becca with Aaron in her arms. The little boy was squirming, not understanding what was happening, only knowing that he was too old to be dragged around like that.

 Esther gave her Uncle Don a hug and he took the gun out of her hand.

 “Have you seen dad or dad?” she asked.

 “They should be right behind us, but we came using separate routes.” On cue there was the sound of wheels on gravel out front. Don peeked through the small front window. There was a knock and Charlie, Colby and Alan were let in. Charlie and Colby ran to their daughter.

 “Are you alright?” They asked touching her face as if to make sure she was really there.

 “I’m fine. I’m fine.” She reassured them. Colby had instantly imagined the worst when he saw the surveillance photos of his daughter’s classrooms across three different schools.

 Charlie was holding Esther in a tight hug when he looked up at Larry. “I’m so sorry Larry.” he said.

 “It’s hardly your fault Charles, or yours Colby.” He said preempting Colby. “Life is always a calculated risk and I am wearing my lucky shirt today so I have no fear.”

 “Is that what that smell is?” Alan said.

 “Very funny. This shirt has survived publishing, poker and six months in space. It will survive this with me in it.”

 Esther knew Uncle Larry was terrified. He was rubbing his fingertips along the palms of his hand which he normally only did if he had a complete stinker of a hand in poker.

 “Ok everyone,” Don said. “Family meeting. You too, Matheson.” Everyone gathered round the rough plank table. “Ok here are our two top priority problems. One, a leak in the office. Now Colby, Megan, and I will have to go back to the office so the leak doesn’t get suspicious but we need to be watching everyone. Matheson, you have the stomach flu, you’re staying here.” When Matheson saw the surveillance photos of himself earlier that day he had run to the men’s room to be sick so that wasn’t a stretch.

 “What’s problem number two?” Alan asked.

 “This.” Don dropped a half ream of paper on the table. “This is their way of passing messages.” Everyone looked at the pages of gibberish symbols.

 “Can you decode it?” Alan asked Charlie.

 “That _is_ decoded.” Charlie whined. “It took me over a week to break their encryption and this is what we got. Scans of some hand written code which has managed to choke every cryptographer and algorithm we’ve shown it to.”

 Charlie’s frustration was evident. Matheson felt his stomach sink again. Like the rest of Don’s team, he had been converted to the First Church of Charlie, taking perverse joy in watching his numbers dazzle visiting agents. He looked across to Esther Eppes who looked more angry than anything else. Her look was almost identical to the look on her uncle’s face when he realized the bad guys were targeting his family.

 It was decided civilians, children, and Matheson would stay at the safe house while Charlie kept going with the decoding. Charlie objected when Don gave Esther back the gun.

 “She qualified with a .38, man,” Don said. “She’s a better shot than you.”

 “Aaron’s a better shot than me that’s not the point.” Charlie growled.

 “It’s ok, dad. I don’t mind.” Esther said.

 “Esther, honey…”

 “No dad,” Esther cut off her father. “Really, I don’t mind.”  Charlie sighed and decided he would cry and scream and rage about the look he saw in his daughter’s eyes later, when they were out of danger and there was time for such things.

 Becca, with the calm sensibility inherent in primary school teachers, set about arranging sleeping assignments as well as mentally rationing the food stores for a several day siege.

 Esther was quickly bored. A quick search of the building turned up two second rate novels both of which she’d read.

 Charlie was mentally pounding his head against a wall as his new algorithm spit back gibberish when he became aware of odd noises. He turned around. Esther was holding one of the sheets of code and making random noises.

 “Um, Esther honey, what are you doing?” Esther looked up.

 “Oh, um, some of these symbols are international phonetic alphabet. I was just practicing.” Esther put the page down and turned to leave.

 “No wait, show me. These symbols have been kicking my ass. I don’t even recognize half of them.”

 “Here.” Esther pointed to a Greek letter Charlie was used to using in math. “That’s a bilabial fricative.”

 “I’d tell you not to cuss if I knew what you said.” Charlie wondered if this was how people felt around him.

 “It’s an ‘f’ sound like friend or phone. If you were writing using a full IPA chart you’d use this symbol to start either word.”

 “What about the rest of these?” Charlie asked. He felt like something was about to happen for the first time in weeks.

 “Alveoar lateral fricative.” She said pointing to another symbol “Velan nasal, retroflex plosive.”

 “What about these?” Charlie pointed to a few that had looked slightly familiar but he hadn’t been able to work out. Esther laughed.

 “Your bad guys are nerds or at least whoever’s sending messages for them are. That’s Klingon and Elvish, Quenya and Sindarin.” Esther looked more closely at the sheet in her hand, the symbols beginning to jump out at her. “These are Hebrew, Sanskrit.”

 Agent Matheson had wandered in to check on Charlie’s progress. He easily recognized the look on Esther’s face as ‘_Eppes about to be fucking brilliant._’ He’d seen it on Don, Charlie, Alan and even a slight version on Colby that he must have picked up over the years.

 “Oh, oh.” Esther breathed “I’ve got it. This word I’ve got it!” Esther’s hands were shaking.

 “What is it?” Charlie asked.

 “It’s money. It’s money. It’s money said in French, spelled out phonetically in four different alphabets. Your guy, or guys it’s got to be two of them one on each side. They’re getting messages, translating each word into different languages, saying them out loud and picking a different alphabet it represent each sound.” Esther pointed to another set of characters. “That’s shipment, in mandarin. This is why your algorithms weren’t working. It has nothing to do with how anything is spelled. If one of these guys has a thick Boston accent then your computer is going to go looking for the letter usage rate for ‘r’ and not find anything. These guys are really, really smart and I’m sure they know more languages than me ‘cause I only started Sanskrit last week.”

 “Do you think you can break these?” Esther gave Matheson a look. “Never mind, dumb question.”

 “What do you need?” Charlie asked with mixed feeling of pride and a little shame for not working out the code himself.

 “Pencil, paper, and I need Agent Matheson to get me online. These guys feel like showoffs. They’ve probably got words in Hopi or Welsh or some shit like that and I’ll need to look them up.”

 “We’ll get you set up.” Charlie gave his daughter a hug. She hugged back with only one arm, still focused on the paper in front of her.

 The wall clock said 3:57am, not that Esther had looked at a clock in hours. There were over 200 pages that needed translation, so far most of them had been about arms and drugs without much clue as to who or why. She heard a small clunk and looked up. There was a cup of coffee in front of her and standing slightly beyond that was Philip Matheson.

 “I’m not allowed to drink coffee.”

 “It’s 4am and there’s lots of cream and sugar.”

 Esther took a sip. There was also a spoonful of hot chocolate stirred in from the taste of it.

 “How’s it going?” he asked.

 Esther sighed. “Slowly. Codes inside of codes. They don’t always write right to left, sometimes it’s left to right, sometimes up and down. It’s like those word searches in the news paper. Plus I think these guys have to be related, they talk in a shorthand sometimes, or make reference to random things, plus there are these weird made up squiggles which I’m sure represent whole words but the only people who know what they are, are these assholes.”

 Matheson tried to put on a sympathetic face. He was never sure what to do around agitated girls. “Is the coffee ok?” He finally asked, feeling helpless.

 “It’s fine, thank you.” Esther looked down at her translation. “I mean, what the hell does this mean? ‘Crow’s first nod’ and they’re making reference to a person doing something.”

 Matheson stared at the ceiling. “Russell Crow, first Oscar nod, 2000 for the Insider.” He looked back down and found Esther staring at him like he had a second head.

 “Ok. You need a life.”

 Matheson shrugged. “Best I could come up with.”

 “Actually it fits, ‘cause I think they’re talking about their guy in the office.”

 “Now if they’d just tell us his name.”

 “These guys are arrogant shits but they’re not that stupid.” Esther took another sip of her coffee. “Ok Mr. Random Knowledge. James’ 17th book?”

 Agent Matheson stared at the ceiling again as if he could read the answers right off it .“King James bible, book 17, Esther.” He looked at Esther, her face falling. “I mean that’s just a guess...I.”

 “No. It fits,” she said softly. “Especially if this little made up squiggle means Eppes.” She pointed to an odd symbol that looked like a tic tac toe board with a chunk missing. “Numbers Eppes, that’s dad.” she said as she wrote out the new translation on a clean page. “Number’s bitch, Dad.”

 “What am I?” Matheson asked.  “Number’s bitch’s bitch”

Esther gave a little giggle. “Pretty close, Orwell’s nightmare?”

 “Big brother,” Matheson said.

 “Uncle Don.” The rest came fairly simple but Esther pondered one of the final on the list. “The Dude? Who the hell is the dude.”

 “Jeff Bridges.” Matheson said without hesitation, quickly finding a deeper answer on the ceiling, “Who in the mid 80’s did a B sci-fi movie with John Carpenter called Starman.”

 Esther nodded slowly. “Ok. When we get out of here you and Niki need to stop beating around the bush 'cause you need a date.” Philip blushed a little, his non-relationship with the young physicist had been the butt of jokes for years now. “Starman, that’s Larry, and that’s everyone.” Esther neatly wrote out the rest of the translation and walked to the kitchen.

 The next thing Matheson heard was the sound of someone being sick in the sink. Matheson grabbed the translation and ran to the kitchen.

 The carefully-made cup of coffee was now in the sink and Esther was sobbing uncontrollably. Matheson quickly looked at the translation. It was a kill order for the entire family and the hit was to be that coming evening. The human in Matheson wanted to wrap his arms around the poor girl and tell her everything would be ok. The survival instinct told him that under no circumstances, for any reason should he ever be found with his arms around a hysterically crying, barely-teenaged girl, especially at five in the morning with her father in the house. He reached out with one hand and tried to rub what he hoped were comforting circles on her back.

 The kitchen door opened and Charlie came in. “What’s going on?” he asked. Esther threw herself into her father’s arms, crying even harder. Matheson held up the translation where Charlie could see. “Oh honey, that won’t happen, I promise you it will not go down like that. No one is touching a hair on your head or anyone else’s. No shots fired. Everyone will be safe.”

 “I’ll get this to Don.” Matheson said. Charlie just nodded and Matheson slinked out feeling like a voyeur in the room.

 In the end, there was some shooting. Actually there was a lot of shooting. Esther managed to bang out a few more translations that morning that resulted in one shot being fired in the halls of the FBI Los Angeles field office and lots of other shots being fired at warehouses around the state.

 Esther ran down the hall of the Field Office to her dad, putting only the slightest thought into sidestepping a large blood stain on the carpet. Colby picked her up even though she was nearly as tall as Charlie already.

 “You’re ok?” she asked.

 “Not a scratch on me.”

 The rest of the family had caught up. Don had his arms around his little boy and wife and was silently thanking anyone who was listening that they were safe. They had arrested one suspect outside of Becca’s school and another outside of Aaron’s.

 Colby put his daughter down and put his arms around his husband. The two usually kept public displays of affection non-existent in the office but Colby really didn’t care. The guy they grabbed in the CalSci parking lot had a very good sniper rifle and now a very broken arm. He kissed Charlie much to Charlie’s surprise.

 “Just needed to know you were really here.” Charlie nodded in understanding.

 Esther pulled on her dad’s sleeve. “Dad, dad, dad, did you get the code guys?”

 “Yes, we did.” Don answered.

 “Can I meet them?” Esther asked.

 “You want to meet them?”

 “I was awake for 24 hours breaking their code, of course I want to meet the fuckers.”

 “Esther! Language!” Charlie and Colby scolded but were ignored.

 “Sure.” Don said. “Why not, you deserve to gloat at them. Arrogant shits the both of them.”

 “Don! This is where she gets it from.”

 “Mark and Matt Cromwell,” Don said.

 Charlie looked thoughtful for a second. “Those names sound really familiar.”

 “They should.” Alan said. “One of them bit you.”

 “What?”

 “Remember we sent you to that special school for a week? They were there. Meant to be music and language prodigies or something. Just seemed like angry, screwed up, little kids to me. Your fourth day you got into a fight with them, one of them bit you. Your mother had to come get you. You had to get all these shots.”

 Esther looked at her father. “You got in a fight?”

 “In my defense, I have no recollection of that incident.”

 “Yeah, right. Can we go home now?”

 Charlie gave his little girl a hug. “Yeah, let’s go home.”


	34. Courting

The flowers were waiting first thing in the morning with no note. Charlie’s first thought was that a student hoping for a better final mark had sent them. At ten, a box of candies appeared -- extra sweet smelling of rose and jasmine, from a little Indiana shop. Amita had gotten him hooked on them years ago and it had taken a long time before he could eat them without thinking of her.

At noon, a courier brought another box. Stephanie, Charlie’s research assistant for the last couple of years, snickered to herself but said nothing.

Charlie unwrapped the box and found inside another box, this one from one of the top men’s stores in town. Charlie swallowed hard and opened it. Inside was a neck tie of the deepest black silk. Charlie ran his fingers along the fabric and felt a shiver run through him.

Charlie always felt that, considering how debauched his younger years had been, he’d escaped with reasonably few fetishes. One was mirrors. The other was neck ties. Especially if they were tied around bits other than necks. He felt himself flush and quickly put the lid back on the box.

Five minutes after the tie arrived Colby strolled in, in jeans that still managed to look good despite his encroaching years, and a black silk shirt that Charlie was always trying to tear off with his teeth. Charlie didn’t say anything but rather let Colby sweep him up in a romantic embrace.

Colby heard Stephanie giggle. He like the girl. She was smart, funny, ran Charlie with military efficiency and, most importantly in Colby’s mind, she was lesbian and in a very committed relationship. Colby felt something cold and wet hit the back of his head. Stephanie also had a sixty second public make-out rule, enforced with a loaded water pistol.

“Thank you, Stephanie.” Colby said trying to keep the water from running down his back.

“Hey, my office, my rules,” Stephanie said.

Colby turned to Charlie. “So are you ready to go?”

“Go where?”

“Our honeymoon.”

“Ah, Colby, we had a honeymoon?”

“No, we didn’t. We tried but Esther got a cold and there was that string of bank jobs.”

“I’ve got papers to grade.”

“No, you don’t.” Stephanie said.

“Esther’s--”

“Taken care of.”

“You’ve go--”

“No, I don’t. Grab your present and be out the door in five seconds or I’ll carry you out of here.”  
Charlie folded his arms and stood his ground. This was obviously a conspiracy of some sort.

Colby looked at Stephanie, shrugged and chucked Charlie over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Charlie protested. It wasn’t that he minded the close up view of Colby’s ass, but upside down in his own office was a little undignified. Stephanie handed Charlie’s bag to Colby, who  threw it over the other shoulder.

“I told you I’d carry you out of here.”

Charlie knew if he put up enough of a fuss, he’d get let down, but physical injury on his part might be involved first.

Colby strode down the nearly empty halls of CalSci as if this was the most normal situation. The few professors and teachers aides they did pass mainly just snickered or gave the occasional jealous glance. Charlie kicked his legs a little, sure the color he could feel in his cheeks wasn’t just from the inverted position of his torso.

“Stop kicking or I’ll get out my handcuffs.” Colby threatened. He heard Charlie make a soft sound and felt a corresponding pressure on his shoulder. Colby gave an evil grin to match any of Charlie’s. Colby stopped when they reached the parking lot.

“Hey, Megan,” Colby said.

Charlie craned his head around and saw Megan standing in front of a very nice convertible, holding a set of keys.

“So you couldn’t talk him into coming?” Megan asked.

“Oh, I think I’ll be able to get him to come eventually.”

Megan laughed and Charlie was thankful his face couldn’t get and redder. Megan tossed Colby the keys.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” she warned, gave Charlie a wave and walked off.

~

Charlie closed his eyes and let the Pacific wind blow across his face. He could barely remember the last time he’d driven up the Pacific Coast Highway, and knew for a fact he’d never done it in a vintage convertible.

“So what was with the flowers and candies this morning?” he asked over the howl of the wind.

“I was courting you,” Colby answered.

“Courting me? What for?”

“I realized I never courted you properly.”

“Sure, you did.”

“When?” Colby questioned.

“You gave me Altoids at a crime scene, showed interest in my work, taught me how to shoot, and pulled me out of a bar when I was drunk and didn’t take advantage of me. Sounds like pretty good courting to me.”

“I could have done better.”

“Well, whatever you did it worked and I’m not complaining.” Charlie did find the idea kind of sweet. It was true they hadn’t exactly courted in the most traditional sense. But at the time, neither man could have shown up at the other ones office with flowers and a box of chocolates without causing problems for the other.

Though it was never talked about it, he knew his husband occasionally still had to level threats against new agents to watch what they said or the kinds of looks they gave. He also knew that when Don had finally taken the promotion to SAC, he had to flat out blackmail a few people to make sure Colby got control of the team after him. There was something to be said for living in liberal academia.

 “So where are we going?” Charlie asked.

“I told you, our honeymoon.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“I won’t.”

After an hour, Colby turned off the highway and up into the hills where a few groves of protected redwoods still stood. The wended between the dappled light until Colby pulled up in front of a set of offices oddly nestled between the trees.

“Wait here.” He gave Charlie a quick kiss then rushed inside.

Charlie took a deep breath of the moist, cool forest air. So different from LA, even at its environmental enlightened best.

Colby hopped back in the car. “It’s just a quick drive.”

And it was. About two minutes down a small dirt track, Colby parked in front of a little cabin. Charlie got out of the car and looked at the seeming ancient little cabin. Colby ran ahead, opened the door, and ran back. “We’re doing this right.”

Charlie folded his arms again. “Picking me up again would generally imply that I’m the girl in this relationship and I recall you in some interesting positions the other night that would imply otherwise.”

“You want to try and carry me?”

“You can carry the luggage. I’ll walk, thank you.” Charlie walked into the cabin and almost wished Colby had carried him. It was stunning. A huge bed seemed to take up much of the space with a pair of picture windows looking over a small lake. Charlie peeked into the bathroom to find a bathtub big enough for six. He heard a pop and Colby came out of the small kitchen with two flutes of Champagne. He handed one to Charlie.

“To us.” Colby said.

They clinked glasses and drank. Charlie felt the very good Champagne almost instantly relaxing him, the stress of the last academic year floating away.

“To new words.” Charlie toasted again, remembering the desperate, painful proposal.

“To not needing words,” Colby said then kissed him.

The kiss was long and deep, each man trying to convey a lifetime of words they may have forgotten to say or might forget in the future. When the words had been said in their own way, hands began to wander. Charlie felt the sudden desperate need to feel his husband’s skin under his hands. Colby apparently felt the same because mutual nakedness quickly ensued. The two collapsed on the large soft bed trying to touch and taste every part of the other person they could get a hold of.

Colby pulled back. “Wait, wait,” Colby gasped between sucking breaths of air.

Charlie nodded, already too close to the edge and understanding. This was their honeymoon, ritual consummation of everything they had been to each other, everything they would be. Colby leaned in and planted gentle kisses down Charlie body. Charlie gently ran his fingertips down Colby’s back. Each kiss and touch was slow and deliberate. Soon, each man was hovering on the edge, the slightest sensation sending shock waves through the body.

Colby pulled back again and got up on shaking legs. He opened the doors to the dressing cupboard by the bed. Inside each door was a full length mirror. Charlie let out a groan. He could see himself and Colby -- hard, naked, already covered in sweat. Charlie could never explain this kink. It wasn’t so much what he saw, but rather the thought of such images turned to photons, burning themselves as neuron electricity into his mind.

Colby went in for a kiss again, this time catching Charlie’s tongue between his teeth and sucking it in deep. Charlie pressed his body against Colby and quickly the two men were wrestling for dominance. Charlie knew that after a few minutes, he would willingly surrender without terms and be the happier for it.

With a quick flip, Colby had Charlie on his front hands pinned above his head, cock nestled firmly between Charlie’s ass cheeks.

“Don’t move,” Colby whispered.

Charlie felt Colby get off the bed, and grinned into the pillow as he mentally tried to track Colby’s transformation from reasonably innocent farm boy to hedonist. He tried to feel some guilt for that, but really couldn’t.

He felt Colby crawl back on the bed a moment later, then slick familiar fingers entered him, stretching, teasing, searching. Charlie jumped when Colby hit just the right spot. Within seconds, Colby had him grinding into the bed desperate for release. When the fingers stopped, Charlie groaned.

“On your knees,” Colby ordered

Charlie pulled his knees up, his face still pressed to the pillow. Colby reached his arms around Charlie’s chest and pulled him up, fingers giving his nipples gentle twists and tugs.

“Look,” Colby whispered.

Charlie opened his eyes and looked in the mirror. The sight was more beautiful than pornographic but it was certainly both. On his knees, hard cock nearly purple against his belly. Colby kneeling behind, arms wrapped around him, fingers pinching at hard nipples, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Keep watching,” Colby said, but Charlie couldn’t have taken his eyes off the sight if he wanted to. One of Colby’s hands disappeared between them and Charlie felt himself easily filled. No pain, they fitted together. He pressed his body back against Colby’s chest and watched as their bodies molded together perfectly. Colby began to move and Charlie moved with him, slow, steady, as if they could keep the rhythm going for a lifetime.

Colby licked down the soft skin of his husband’s neck and listened to the soft low moans Charlie made, almost as if he were dreaming.

Soon it became too much for Charlie, always short on patience, even after all these years. He broke the rhythm and ground his hips back with more force. Colby quickly caught up and began driving into Charlie, one arm around the man’s chest for balance, the other hand already working the firm cock. Charlie wanted to close his eyes, wanted to throw his head back and scream. He locked eyes with Colby’s reflection, tried to focus, not let go. When Colby came, it was with a shudder. His eyes fluttered shut and Charlie was released. He came in waves that never seemed to end. When they did, the two collapsed, Colby still firmly buried in his husband, arms holding him tight.

_‘This is love.’_ Was Charlie’s thought. _‘This is good.’_


	35. Varsity

Colby could smell something really good coming from the kitchen as he walked in the door. Esther had to be cooking. When she was seven, she’d gotten tired of her fathers’ culinary attempts and read Escoffier's _Le Guide Culinaire_, in the original French, of course. This had led to the kitchen becoming contested territory between Esther and her grandfather for many years.

 “What’s cooking?” Colby asked the house at large.

 Charlie was setting the table. “Something neither of us can pronounce.”

 “So, something good then.” He gave Charlie a kiss. “What’s the occasion?”

 “I don’t know. She has something she wants to tell us but wants to ply us with good food first.”

 Colby panicked and grabbed at Charlie. “You don’t think..?” Colby had developed the unholy fear possessed by all fathers of teenaged daughters of hearing the words ‘_I’m pregnant’_ only slightly followed by ‘_I’ve met someone, he’s a drummer_.’

 “I’m sure it’s fine. She’s had a shit-eating grin on her face since I got home. And whatever it is, Dad knows and won’t tell.”

 “That table better be set ‘cause I’m plating up right now!” Came the shout from the kitchen.

 Charlie and Colby quickly set the four places as Esther and Alan ferried food out from the kitchen.

 Esther sat down. “Ok everyone, eat.”

 “Don’t you have something you want to tell us?” Colby asked.

 “Eat first.”

 Colby realized he’d somehow managed to raise a child that was evil. He silently blamed her mother and tucked in. The food was good. Something with duck and coconut. When the food was finished, everyone sat silently at the table.

 “Well?” Charlie prompted.

 Ester tried to keep a straight face but a smile was pulling hard at the corners of her mouth. “I got a letter today.”

 “Ok?”

 “From the Oxford Journal of Applied Linguistics.” Her face broke into a grin. “I’m getting published!” she squealed out with the kind of glee usually reserved for cheerleaders getting their first pompons. Colby and Charlie both ran around the table to give their daughter a hug.

 “I. Am. So. Proud. Of. You.” Charlie said between kisses. Colby pulled her in for a bear hug.

 “Oxford. That’s big time right?” Colby asked.

 “That’s varsity, dad.” Esther said. “It’s _so_ big.”

 Alan got up to join the hug. He’d been there when the letter arrived and had witnessed much jumping up and down and squealing already.

 “Tell them about the other letter.” He said.

 “Another letter?”

 “Yep!” Esther rummaged through her pocket for the folded envelope. “They peer reviewed my article with a guy from CIA Linguistics and he sent a letter too and really wants to meet me!”

 “If he wants to spend a weekend at a bed and breakfast in Santa Barbara, the answer is No!” Charlie said quickly.

 “Daaaad. He just wants to talk. He’s really impressed with my work. And it’s the CIA!”

 Colby looked at his husband. “I told you letting her dress up as James Bond when she was four was a bad idea.”

 “I’m not the one who left Ian Fleming novels out where any impressionable three year old could get a hold of them.”

 “Oh, so this is my fault?” Alan said.

 “Oh, stop it you three.” Esther scolded lightly.

 “You know we need to call everybody?”

 “We need to get a sky writer and tell the whole damn city.” Colby said. He knew he was going to be insufferable at the office tomorrow and really didn’t care.

 All three men leaned in and gave Esther another hug. “This is good.” Colby said softly to her. “This is good.”


	36. Presidential Medal of Freedom

Charlie felt Colby’s arms wrap around him.

“You’re being very clingy tonight,” Charlie said.

“Can you blame me? We’re in a room full of people, here to celebrate the wonderfulness that is you. I need to mark my territory.”

Charlie gave a small laugh. “I’m a little gray to be attracting math groupies. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Nonsense, you’re only as old as your research assistant tells you that you are.”

Charlie fingered the heavy medallion around his neck.

“It should have been a Nobel,” Colby said.

“There isn’t a Nobel prize for math.”

“Well, they should have made one.”

“I wouldn’t take Noble’s blood money anyways,” Charlie joked.

Don came up a glass of good Champagne in his hand. “Mind if I butt in?”

Colby took a step back and Don pulled his brother into a hug. “I am so proud of you, Charlie.”

“Thank you, Don.” Charlie gave a bit of a sigh.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I just wish…”

“He’s here, Charlie. Mom too, and they’re both just as proud of you as can be.”

Charlie gave his brother another hug. “Thank you.”

Don squinted at the medal. “Presidential Medal of Freedom.” He said. “For mathematical services to the country rendered to damn near everyone who ever asked.”

Charlie shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a math slut. I see a sexy problem, how can I say no?”

Don laughed. “You never told me you were on Project Reflex.”

“You didn’t have the clearance.”

“It was only the biggest simultaneous sting operation in the history of the planet.”

Charlie shrugged again. “The reaction probability equations were interesting to work on, though really not that complicated. I really just had to scale up the same kind of equations I was doing for you all those years.”

Don rolled his eyes. Both of them may have been old enough to be grandfathers but at times Charlie still acted like he was seventeen and playing with model yachts in the koi pond.

“Have you talked to Larry yet?” Don asked. “I haven’t seen him around?”

“Megan took him back to hotel. We talked for a bit.”

“I’m surprised he was able to make it. That hip can’t be in great shape.”

“He told me he would have glued feathers to his arms and flapped here if he had to.”

“That I would have liked to have seen.”

Charlie looked around and saw Esther elbowing her way past senators.

“Hide me,” she pleaded to her fathers.

“Murphy?” Colby asked.

Esther rolled her eyes. “He knows my terms, but he keeps pushing.”

Colby growled to himself. He still quietly blamed Alan and his James Bond novels for Esther’s insistence on being a part time spook. He knew her linguistic abilities were as important to the intelligence community as Charlie’s math was to defense and security, but it was still terrifying the first time his little girl went on a summer ‘research trip’ to ‘study obscure language groups,’ knowing full well she’d probably be in some third world war zone. She’d come back every Fall the first few years full of energy and ideas, then one Fall she came home with a limp, a puckered scar, and a haunted look. Colby had used every contact he still had to track down her handler and break his nose.

“He wants you back in the field?” Charlie asked.

“I told him no more malaria infested hell holes. I am done with that garbage. I want a minimum of three star hotels and drinkable tap water. I am getting too damn old for dysentery.”

Charlie laughed. “How did we raise such a diva?”

“Asks the man who still insists on particular brands of chalk.”

“Most chalk crumbles too much,” Charlie said.

“I know.” Colby gave Charlie a kiss on the head.

A photographer approached. “Can I get a group picture?” the young man asked.

“Sure,” Charlie said.

They all bunched together. Charlie was moved into the center of the group with his husband on one side and daughter on the other.  Don squeezed in next to Esther and put his arm around her to lay his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Colby smiled for the camera. The flash bulb went off and he was happy.

_‘This is good.’_


End file.
